Mulder's Baby
by sparozina
Summary: In this universe it was Mulder who was left barren, not Scully. Will he ask her to be the ova donor? Can they make a baby? This starts almost exactly like Per Manum, just for the fun of it, but it takes completely different turn... Set somewhere in Season 7 after Closure. (DISCLAIMER: I don't own this story. It owns me.)
1. The elevator

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the characters. No copyright infringement is intended.

I've been looking all over the building for my partner. I didn't know whether to be worried or annoyed. He didn't come to the office at all and he wasn't answering his phone. Was this one of his famous ditches or did something happen to him?

I turned around towards the sound of elevator doors opening and relief washed over me: there he was, safe and sound.

"There you are. I've been looking all over for you," I said while joining him in the elevator. I observed him carefully, still trying to decide whether to comfort or reprimand him for his absence.

"Hi. Um, I'm sorry," he said awkwardly, trying to avoid eye contact: "I had a doctor's appointment and, um, I don't know, I guess time just got away from me."

"Is anything the matter?" I asked him, definitely settling for my comfort mode. I felt a bit hurt that he went to another doctor without even consulting me first, but he was so clearly distressed that I decided to put away my feelings for a while and offer him unconditional support.

"Nothing. No, I just, uh... I went for a walk."

Nothing? Well, "nothing" wouldn't make my partner act like a child that just got caught steeling candy. I felt relieved though, as at least "nothing" didn't sound to be life threatening. His reactions weighted more on the embarrassing side, stuff like hemorrhoids or impotence and such that is not easy or even appropriate to discuss with your business partner, even when she happens to be a medical doctor or a personal friend.

"Then what's wrong?" I pressed him, not willing to let some trivial discomfort come between us. Besides, as his doctor I had a right to know.

Mulder sighed heavily, closely examining something on his shoes.

"I'm..." he started: "I'm sorry I haven't told you. I don't know why I haven't. I mean, you were always there for me during my illness but, um..." he was having trouble continuing.

"Don't make me guess," I told him softly with a small smile as I leaned closer to him, trying to reassure him that it is indeed ok to talk to me, whatever the hell it is that's bothering him.

"I was left unable to reproduce with whatever tests that they did on me," he finally admitted: "And I am not ready to accept that I will never have children."

His admission left me paralyzed for a second and I seemed to had forgotten how to breathe, but then the elevator doors opened with a ding and I walked out on the auto pilot. I turned around as I noticed that he wasn't following me. The doors started to close between us and I grabbed them with my shaking hands to keep them open. I felt exactly like Mulder felt just a few seconds ago, as it was my turn to share something that was hard and devastating to acknowledge.

"Mulder, there's, um, there's something I haven't told you either and I hope you, uh, forgive me and understand why I would have kept it from you."

"What?" he looked at me surprised.

"During my search for you Diana's card gave me access to different kind of labs. Strange things were going on there, Mulder, but I didn't have much time to examine or make sense of it at the time, as I had to find you before it was too late… There was one room with samples though, and your name was among them. Your sperm was taken from you and stored in that lab."

"What?" he looked at me in shock and disbelief. The elevator door started to close again and this time it was his hand that came to keep it open: "You found it?"

"I took it directly to lab to check if it was ok."

"I don't believe this."

"Mulder, you were deathly ill, and I... I couldn't bear to give you another piece of bad news."

"Is that what it was?" he looked at me, hurt beyond measure: "It was bad news?"

"Mulder, the sperm wasn't viable," I admitted. I don't know whatever possessed me to check it in the first place. There was no reason to suspect that they would leave him barren, but they did take a sample after all, so maybe they planned to use it as blackmail or something. Were they making children with Mulder's sperm like they did with my ova? I wouldn't be able to bear to watch him go through with something like what I went through with Emily. But my ova were not all taken and I was definitely not left barren. I had a chance to have other children, something that was taken away from Mulder, forever. The sample I found wouldn't matter that much and I would never have to tell him about it if it didn't come to this. I never expected this to happen.

"Well, Scully, you are not a specialist," he told me, his voice noticeably colder: "I want a second opinion."

With that, he pushed the button and the doors started to close. I reached to hold them back, but his look sent me a clear message to back off. To fuck off, more precisely. Reluctantly, I released the doors and let him go. He had a lot to process. He needed some time to himself and I could give it to him. I owned it to him. I knew he would come back to me in the end. He always does.


	2. The sample

"Hi," Scully said as she opened the door of her apartment for me.

"Hi," I replied, nervously walking in, not waiting for her to invite me: "Where is it?"

She sighed and pointed towards the kitchen: "It's in my freezer…"

If somebody told me just a few days ago that I would be coming to my partner's home to retrieve my sperm from her freezer I would've checked that person for a neck implant. If that somebody went on to explain how she got hold of my sample I would scream aliens and put him or her on a witness protection program.

And that wasn't even the worse of it. A week ago I didn't even dream of being a father and now it was the only thing I could think about. After coming to terms with my sister's death my quest was over. With my mother dead as well there was no family left for me and now I was supposed to accept that I had no chance of having any family in the future either. I couldn't. I wouldn't. I don't just believe in aliens, I believe in miracles too. One potential miracle Scully just took out from beneath frozen peas and TV dinners and offered it to me.

"Are you sure about this Mulder?" she asked gently: "I don't want you to get any false hopes. This wasn't stored properly, I don't believe that…"

"Yes, I'm sure," I cut her short, grabbing the small package from her. I wasn't in the mood for her skeptic monologues, the woman doesn't believe much in anything anyway. I was embarrassed and uncomfortable by our exchange, but more than that I felt betrayed because she kept something as huge as this from me for so long. I turned around ready to leave her apartment without saying goodbye, but I stopped with my hand already on the door handle. I sighed heavily, not ready to forgive her, but not willing to alienate her further either. She was the only person that mattered in my sorry excuse for life and I needed her as much as ever.

I turned to face her and forced a smile on my face. I waved my sample a bit and remarked playfully: "If I knew how precious this thing was I wouldn't have thrown away so much of it. You would've needed a bigger freezer."

She smiled but it was a sad smile, too sad for me to bear, especially since her eyes started to get alarmingly wet. I mumbled some words of goodbye and left, immediately going to a no more pleasant meeting with a specialist.


	3. Good news

"Mr. Mulder?" doctor Parenti called me as he walked from his office: "Got a good report for you."

I stood up from the waiting chair and just stared at him, unable to respond.

"I've looked at the sperm you've given me," Dr. Parenti continued: "And I've consulted with some of my colleagues. We all feel that with the proper approach we might be successful. Got a good chance to conceive a child."

His words made my knees feel too weak to hold me and I collapsed back in the chair.

"It's too good to be true," I mumbled. He kept talking but I couldn't keep up with the meaning of his words. A little boy suddenly occupied my entire mind. A little boy who just became a possibility! A little boy was being offered a precious opportunity to exist.

*My* little boy! A little Mulder nonetheless!

"Something… Something…" Dr. Parenti went on talking: "…if we start soon."

"We can start right away?" I asked, thrilled. This wasn't some bright but distant future. This was happening, NOW.

"Well, you need a mother, of course," Dr. Parenti smiled: "I can get you genetic counseling on finding an anonymous ova donor as well as a suitable surrogate mother, if that's what you want… Unless you already have someone in mind."

With those words my little boy disappeared as fast as he appeared just a minute ago. There was someone on my mind all right, but it wasn't him anymore. It was a little girl, only she wasn't anonymous child waiting for a chance to live, it was a child whose chance at life was taken away from her cruelly and abruptly. A little girl with Scully's eyes who I wanted to love but never got a chance to. A child that was never meant to be, just like my future child wasn't, though sometimes, somehow, things work out differently. I saw Emily, my partner's daughter, and she smiled at me with the sweetest, most innocent smile I ever received and in that instant I knew.

"I just need to figure out how to ask her," the words escaped my lips even though I didn't mean to say them aloud.


	4. How he asked

It was lonely in the office without Mulder. He was taking a day off and I knew why: his appointment with Dr. Parenti was scheduled for the early morning and he probably didn't want to work after receiving bad news. What other kind of news could he possibly get?

I sighed, worried about my friend. He lost so much and it was just too cruel to take away his chance for parenthood. At the same time, the idea of Mulder with a child terrified me. How could a man so obsessed with his work possibly take care of a child?

I tried to write a report, but all I could think about was a little boy with Mulder's eyes. Then a big boy with Mulder's eyes entered the office: Mulder himself.

I looked at him, surprised. But why was I surprised to see a man who lives for his work coming to office on his day off?

"Mulder?" I asked, getting up from his chair: "What happened?"

"Sit down, Scully," he sighed heavily and I did as I was told. He sat on the desk and looked at me with a hard-to-read expression.

"They think it may work," he said quietly: "Especially if I start soon."

I stared at him for a moment, at loss for words. How could it work?

"So, um… What are you going to do?" I finally asked him.

"I want to try," he nodded: "If you don't mind."

"Mulder," I protested: "You don't need my approval."

"Yeah, I… I know," he said, having hard time to meet my gaze: "I still… want it though. You are my partner and… I wouldn't want… this… to come between us."

"Oh, Mulder," I covered his hand with mine: "I may not always agree with you – or ever for that matter – but I'm always here for you. You know that. I'll do what I can to help."

"Good, because… There is something I would appreciate your help with, Scully."

"What is it, Mulder?"

"I… I don't know how to ask you this…"

"I'm a doctor Mulder! I'm also an aunt. I have experience with children. What is it that you want to know?"

"I… Well… Scully… I can't do this alone… I need a… donor… A mother…"

"Yes, Mulder, that's how kids are usually made."

He didn't say anything more, just fixated me with his gaze.

Then it hit me and the hell broke loose.

"Mulder, please, don't tell me you want ME to be…"

"Could you at least think about it?"

"Damn it, Mulder!" I yelled, getting up from the chair: "How do you figure that?! You, me, and the BABY fighting aliens? You expect me to chase monsters PREGNANT? For the whole nine MONTHS? To go through the labor and all and just hand my baby to YOU?!"

"You don't have to be pregnant. We could find a surrogate…"

"Oh GOD, what THE HELL is wrong with you?!"

"Scully, please, calm down… It's not like I'm asking you to have unprotected sex or…"

"Yes, Mulder, that's EXACTLY what you're asking!"

He bit his lip and shook his head, then he turned around to leave the office.

"Mulder," I called after taking a deep breath: "I'll think about it. Ok?"

He turned back at me and nodded.

"That's all I'm asking," he said and left the office.

I still stood there, unable to move. Did my partner just ask me to have his baby? It must have been a shape shifter! I felt tempted to reach for my phone and call *real* Mulder. Maybe there's a fake Scully with him asking him to be her baby's father? Maybe one day we will laugh about this.

As my anger faded, some warm feeling passed through my hearth. I couldn't help but be touched by his crazy request. He looked so awkward and worried, it was obviously hard for him to ask. It was obviously important to him. How could I yell at him like that?

I wanted to run from the office, straight to his place, and apologize. But he didn't need my apologies, he needed the answer and I had a lot of thinking to do.

How could I do this for him? How could I not, after everything that he did for me?

I would give my life for him at any moment without a blink, but can I give a life that isn't mine? Can I give my child's life?


	5. How she answered

I took the rest of the week off to do a thorough research on artificial insemination, fetus development and baby care. I even went so far as to look through pediatricians and schools.

I wanted to be well prepared for my child, if or when it comes. It was a completely new subject for me, since I always assumed I would have a wife to take care of those things when the time comes. Not only that I didn't find a wife, I didn't have a mother for my child either, nor I would in the future. I gave up dating a long time ago and while it didn't seem fair to create a child that will never have a mother figure in its life, this was also my one and only chance.

Besides, I knew that my child would not lack a female influence, even if it couldn't be considered motherly in the widely understood definition of that term.

When I finally went back to work I found Scully's message that she will be taking some time off now. I couldn't help but feel that she was avoiding me. I decided to give her some time, but when she didn't come back to work or answer my phone calls and emails I went to her place, only to discover that she wasn't answering her door either.

By this point I was starting to get worried. My request might have been awkward or inappropriate, and I didn't really expect from her to accept it, but I didn't expect her to go hiding either. She was perfectly capable of refusing me in my face. Something must have happened to her and if my delay in searching had endangered her life I would never forgive myself.

There was no way I was leaving her place without searching it thoroughly, so I used my key to get in.

I was immediately relieved as I spotted Scully peacefully sleeping on her couch. But something was off. The place was a mess, which was so uncharacteristically of Scully. Clothes and files were scattered all over the floor. There was an empty ice cream bucket on the coffee table and as I came closer I saw a picture next to it. I recognized it immediately as I was the one who took it: Scully and Emily, smiling at the camera like the world belongs to them and always will…

I looked at my sleeping partner sadly, thinking: I could give this back to you, if only you'd let me…

I didn't want to wake her so I went to the kitchen. It looked even worse than the living room. There was a huge pile of dirty dishes both on the table and in the sink and without thinking further I started washing them. It was the least I could do for her, confident that I can't possibly screw up such a simple task.

By the time Scully woke up my hands were all wrinkled, but the dirty pile was noticeably smaller.

"Mulder, what are you doing?" I heard her voice behind me.

"Just proving that I'm a good genetic material," I said teasingly, without turning to look at her.

"I'm not having your baby," she said. Now I did turn.

"I'm not doing it," she repeated: "Not by myself, and not by another woman."

"Okay," I nodded, drying my hands.

"I'm sorry. I whish I could, I really do, but… I can't."

I noticed that she was holding Emily's picture. My request obviously reminded her of her daughter and she wasn't taking it well. She seemed to be even more distant and depressed than she was after the child's death. I cursed myself for putting her through that nightmare again.

"I said it's okay," I told her gently: "You don't have to explain."

"I'll help you find a donor, I'll do whatever I can," her eyes filled with tears: "But not this."

I went to her and hugged her.

"I'm sorry," I whispered into her hair: "I don't want from you anything you're not comfortable giving. I just want you to come back to work."

"Okay," she agreed, holding me tighter. Being so close to her I couldn't help but notice that she hadn't showered in a while. I didn't mind as much, but my hearth ached for her, knowing how proper hygiene is important to her. I was sure that she could hear my hearth breaking, since her cheek was pressed hard against it.

"Are we okay Mulder?" she asked after releasing me.

"Of course we are, partner," I smiled reassuringly: "Now, why don't you go take a bath while I finish cleaning up?"

"I'm sorry," she said and moved away from me, suddenly embarrassed: "I wasn't expecting company."

"No problem," I pulled her back to me and kissed her forehead, not willing to let her go thinking that I am in any way disgusted with her.


	6. Scully's choice

"What the hell is he thinking?" I thought to myself as I entered my bubble bath: "Washing my dishes? By hands? Doesn't he know how to use the dishwasher?"

Knowing Mulder, he probably doesn't. I made a mental note to rewash them myself later. I prefer doing my household chores by myself. I just didn't realize how long it's been since the last time I've done them. I was so tired.

I was afraid to face my partner, afraid of his reaction to my rejection. It was a relief for me to see how well he took it, but that relief soon turned into pain. He was ok with it. I didn't mean anything to him, not as a woman at least. He only asked me because I was closest to him, as simple as that. It was a practical thing to do. Now he can go ask other women, until one of them says yes. It doesn't matter which one. Why should it?

I sighed at closed my eyes. It was the right choice to make, I assured myself. I can't give up another child and watch Mulder raise it. I don't know anything about his views on parenthood, but I can safely assume that they are nothing like mine. He would get his baby with or without my help, and I wanted to get pregnant with someone who will want it with and only with me. Someone who will let me raise it with him…

I stroked my breasts with one hand, pretending to just wash them, while the other one went between my legs. I tried to remember if I locked my bathroom door, but I didn't believe Mulder would try to enter while he knows I'm in there. Somehow, having him in my kitchen turned me on. When was the last time I had a man doing dishes for me? When was the last time I had a man, period?

I gave up dating a long time ago, just to follow Mulder around. Working with him left no time to have a quality personal life. I gladly accepted it, since I never felt as alive and fulfilled in my life as when I was working for the X files division.

But if Mulder gets his baby, he will have considerably less time available for our work, which means I will also have more free time for myself. What could I do with it? Start dating again? Though, with one more Mulder to take care off, I might end up with even less spare time. My one Mulder was a hell of a lot of work, I didn't need another one. I didn't want another one. I wanted my pet Fox all for myself. I was a selfish bitch, which was something I could live with, as long as he doesn't find out. He told me he won't go through with it without my approval, and I couldn't deny him that one chance for fatherhood.

I could, however, hope it won't work.

For which I hated myself.


	7. The search

I didn't feel like searching for a surrogate mother. All I could think about was my baby and I wanted to have it in my arms without involving a stranger in the process. Paying someone the rent for her womb didn't sound appealing either. If it was in any way possible I would carry the baby myself.

I had to do all those uncomfortable tasks and I had no time to waste. I only had one chance, but I felt it's going to work.

Besides, I wasn't doing it alone. Scully was by my side, answering all my questions about the medical process, and interviewing potential surrogate mothers. I was amazed by her ability to ask all the right questions, those that I would never come up with by myself. As always, Scully proved to be priceless and irreplaceable.

Emily stayed with me, too. I often felt her presence, her light touch and shy smile.

"Your mommy doesn't want to do it," I told her: "Could you still come to me through somebody else?"

She just smiled and hugged me with her presence. Maybe I was going crazy, but I wanted to believe that this child could really be reborn, this time as my daughter. That way, she would still be a part of my partner, even if Scully didn't want to be the one to bring her into this world.

I didn't want a child with a stranger. I wanted a child with my best friend. What if there were more kids like Emily? What if more of Scully's ova were used? What if they weren't? What if I could find them, would Scully let me use them?

Does it actually matter? I couldn't ask her again, see her hurt like that again. I couldn't tell her that she was the only one. I had to try with somebody else.

"But Mulder, her mother died of breast cancer," Scully protested on the woman I wanted to choose: "What if you have a daughter and she inherits those genes?"

"Don't you think she's a bit old," she commented on the second choice, continuing with explaining the potential risks of getting pregnant at her age.

"Mulder, I'm not a racist, but since you're going to be a single father you might want your child to share your skin color at least!"

"She's nice, Mulder, but that nose…"

"I don't trust her Mulder."

"You've got to be kidding me Mulder!"

"Mulder, we are looking for a surrogate mother, not a sumo wrestler!"

"She looks anorexic, Mulder, she can't possibly be able to conceive!"

"Red hair? Seriously Mulder? I don't want people to think I had anything to do with this!"

"Mulder, she has so much facial hair that she would be better with a razor than a baby. Do your kid a favor and keep looking!"

"She's perfect Mulder, a bit too perfect, if you know what I mean."

After a while I realized that no woman will ever be good enough for Scully. No woman was good enough for me either, but that's because they were not her. I doubted Scully went with that same reasoning, since she had her chance and decided to pass it. It felt like she didn't want me to have a baby at all, and I didn't understand why.

So I made my final decision without her.

"Samantha?!" Scully yelled at me when I told her: "I know why you chose her and I have to say it's more than a little disturbing, on several levels!"

"My sister is dead, Scully," I answered angrily: "This has nothing to do with her! And she would be much older than this woman is. There's no way it could be my sister! The name is just a coincidence."

"Damn it, Mulder, it's just wrong!"

"Well, making a baby like this feels wrong, too, but I don't have a choice, Scully! There is a reason why people usually fall in love and have sex before reproducing. If everybody had to go through interviews and weighing pros and cons, human race would be extinct by now!"

"Mulder… You still have time to fall in love."

"Forget is, Scully! It would be the biggest X file of all. I'm not getting younger, and my sample is not getting more viable. Samantha it is!"

"Sure… Fine. Whatever."


	8. The results

I was lying on the examination table, my huge belly exposed to doctor Parenti.

"Is it a boy or girl?" I asked him, not really anxious to know, it was just a matter of practicality.

"Neither," he answered.

"What do you mean neither?!"

"It's an alien, Ms Scully."

"WHAT?!"

I jumped from the table and run to the waiting room, where Mulder was sitting and going through some files.

"What the hell did you put in me Mulder?!" I yelled at my partner. He raised his head lazily towards me and observed me disapprovingly.

"Calm down, Scully," he said: "Your mood is not good for the baby."

"Baby?! It's not a baby, it's a damn alien!"

"What made you think that I'm interested in having a human kid?" he gave me a shocked look, like I was the one who's insane.

"You lied to me Mulder!"

"It served my purpose," he shrugged.

"You can't treat me like this! I'm your partner, damn it!"

"Oh, Scully… You are merely my sidekick."

"WHAT?!"

"Don't act so hurt, honey. You never had a desk, or even a nameplate. You should be grateful I let you stick with me for as long as I did. Nobody else would put up with you for so long."

"I don't believe this!"

"Always a skeptic, aren't you, honey?"

"Don't call me honey, you son of a bitch!"

"Scully, watch your language! I don't want my baby to pick up on your bad manners."

"I am NOT having this… thing! The deal is off!"

He stood up and reached for me, but I shrugged him off: "Don't touch me!"

"Okay," he raised his hands, feigning defeat: "But think about it Scully. This is your last chance. You should be grateful for it. You'll never find another man who would be willing to make you pregnant."

"How dare you say that!"

"Why do you think you are still single?"

"Because, Mulder, I'm too busy saving your ass all the time! All my energy goes into fulfilling YOUR needs!"

"Save your energy Scully. I just need you to lie down and gestate. I found somebody way more qualified to satisfy my needs."

After those words he whistled and tall leggy brunette with huge breasts appeared from somewhere. Samantha! A surrogate mother of Mulder's choice, nonetheless. She approached him, flirting shamelessly and he took her in passionate embraced.

"After all, she is my sister, my blood," he winked at me before devoting all of his attention to that horny body. His hands went underneath her see-through shirt while he licked all over her face. I had to suppress the urge to vomit, and it definitely wasn't because of morning sickness!

"She's not your sister," I told him after I gained back my ability to speak. He just waved his hand at me, not bothering to look at my direction: "Agent Scully, you are dismissed."

My pregnancy hormones boiled at those words and I was just about to attack him, when I felt his hand on my shoulder.

"Scully? What are you doing here?" he asked me, sounding more like a Mulder I know.

"And what the hell are you doing here?" I snapped.

"Scully…" he looked at me with a surprised confusion and a hint of worry in his eyes: "I live here."

I looked around, realizing that I'm sitting on his couch. Indeed, I was in his living room and I clearly wasn't pregnant. It was just a dream.

"I must have dozed of. I was waiting for you to get back," I said, remembering why I came to his place. He had an appointment with doctor Parenti and Samantha today, which was something he wanted to do without me. I respected that, but I wasn't willing to wait until tomorrow to find out the results.

"Are you okay, Scully?"

"Yeah… I had a bad dream, that's all. I'm sorry."

He just nodded and sat on the couch next to me, looking defeated.

"It didn't take, did it?" I asked, even though there was almost no need for it. His body language spoke for itself. He sighed heavily and buried his head in his hands.

"I don't… want to talk about it," he mumbled.

I put my hand on his back and gently stroked it. It felt awkward, since the memory of Mulder from my dream was still fresh in my mind. This Mulder would never treat me like that, I had to believe it. I did believe it. With all my heart.

"Never give up on a miracle," I told him, surprising myself. Where did that come from?

He raised his head and looked at me, piercing me with his gaze. There was a huge sadness in his eyes, but it was mixed with hope.

"I'm sorry Scully," he whispered.

"For what?" I was surprised.

"For all the times I've treated you bad," he said leaning closer to me, his gaze never leaving mine: "For all the times I've left you behind. And for all the times that I haven't."

His mouth was now dangerously close to mine and the room suddenly got unbearably hot.

"For choosing Samantha," he whispered before briefly pressing his lips against mine. It felt like a New Year all over again. He pulled me in a tight embrace afterwards, erasing the last traces of his dream alter ego from my mind.


	9. Mulder's lies

I couldn't tell her. I had to but I couldn't. I didn't know how.

In the end, I didn't want to.

I wanted to spend last days with her like we have forever. I didn't want her pity or her sadness. She would have time for that later, without me. I was running out of time.

How do I tell my partner that I won't live to see the next year, that I will slip away with this millennium, leaving the next one solely to her?

It started innocently enough.

"I'd like my colleague to check on that," Dr Parenti told me: "I will call him to let him know you'll be dropping by."

I accepted, not giving it a second thought, not caring what exactly was "that" that he was referring to. I had a baby to make.

And than I hadn't.

Just like that.

You don't go making a baby when you are not supposed to live long enough to see it being born. Samantha understood that. She refused to take any money from me, even hugged me goodbye.

Goodbye had a whole new meaning now.

I had a tombstone to make. Not a baby, but a memorial! For my parents, for my beloved sister… For myself…

Writing a will was easy. Scully gets everything. My fish, my couch, my X files, even my sperm. She gets my body too, in case she wants to practice autopsies on it or store my brain in a jar to scare the next generation of FBI agents with stories of Spooky Mulder, her crackpot partner.

"You need to tell your doctor immediately," Dr Parenti's colleague told me, even though, in his opinion, no doctor could make any difference.

"I'm really sorry, Mr Mulder," he said as he shook my hand and I went home to find my doctor asleep on my couch. She looked like an angel from heaven, which made me consider the theory that I was already dead.

I wanted to tell her, but she thought I was with Samantha, having her tested for pregnancy that was never meant to be. Lies built on lies and I couldn't face her rage when she finds out. She already looked angry as I woke her up.

Do I torture you in your dreams too, partner?

How do I tell you how sorry I am, without sounding pathetic? How do I make it up to you? Maybe this disease is my punishment for failing you, just as I failed my sister, my mother, my father… I couldn't save any of them, just as I can't save myself. You couldn't have done anything for me either, don't ever think that you could! My life wouldn't matter at all anyway, if it wasn't for you. You are the only reason I regret having to die.

How do I tell you goodbye?

"Never give up on a miracle," Scully told me, as if she could read my thoughts. I looked at her amazed, a tiny bit of hope lightning inside me. If Scully can believe in miracles, then truly anything is possible.

For some reason, I wanted to kiss her.

For some reason, I tried.

For some reason, she let me.


	10. Bellefleur and beyond

"There's so much more you need to do with your life," Mulder whispered into my ear: "There's so much more than this."

He's been spending a lot of time lately trying to convince me to leave him, to do something else with my life. But what was I supposed to do without him? Mulder became such an integral part of my life that I didn't know where he ends and I begin. I never had a quest of my own, a passion of my own, I owned everything to him. I would be long dead by now if it wasn't for him. He had a power to will me out of coma, to defrost me in the middle of Antarctic, or to find a cure for inoperable cancer.

Surely he could heal a little vertigo and a few chills too, couldn't he? I came to him when I didn't know what was happening to me, as I always do, and he covered me with blankets and with his body.

"There has to be an end, Scully," he whispered and lightly kissed me on the cheek. He had me in his bed, he had me in his arms, and all he could talk about were goodbyes! Trust Mulder to beg me to have his baby one day and to get out of his life the next.

I was too sick to argue with him, so I grabbed his hand instead and pulled it close to my face, to secure him to my side. I wasn't going anywhere, and I wasn't letting him go either.

We were in the same motel in Bellefleur as we stayed in on our first case together, seven years ago. Seven years since I striped almost naked in front of him, a stranger then, and fell asleep in his bed after hearing his crazy personal story. I only realized how inappropriate it all was when I talked to other people about it. But I didn't start acting professional with Mulder, I stopped talking about it to others instead, it made more sense at the time and it still does. I always trusted Mulder, though it wasn't easy to win his trust, just as it wasn't easy for him to win my respect. I considered him to be a jerk at first, simply because that was his reputation. We gave each other lots of hard time during all those years, but it only brought us closer, it only made us stronger.

I fell asleep in his bed again and he kept me warm all night.

He didn't let me return to Bellefleur after that. He returned by himself.

And he didn't come back…

I was lying helplessly in a hospital after passing out in front of Lone Gunmen guys when my boss came to tell me that aliens stole Mulder from him. Aliens, nonetheless! For a brief moment I hoped that they just got drunk together and made up a joke. If it was a prank, it sure as hell wasn't funny at all.

Skinner was barely able to hold back tears, and Skinner never cries. He was obviously telling the truth, at least what he believed to be the truth. Aliens or no aliens, Mulder was gone.

"I'm not gonna risk losing you," he told me as an explanation for not letting me go back to Oregon. Why didn't I tell him the same thing? Why did I let him go? As a partner, my job is to protect him, not myself. Skinner is an office man, he's not trained to chase aliens. That's my job and I failed at it. I failed big time.

And I kept failing…

I didn't even search for him. I didn't know where to look. There were no clues, no leads, no hunches… He just vanished.

All I could do was to wait. It didn't help, of course. Only bad news was coming.

Mulder's tombstone came. Why the hell did he order that shit?

My test results from hospital came too.

Premature menopause! I couldn't believe it. Sure, as a doctor, I know it happens and given my history with chemotherapy I was at a higher risk.

It happens, fine, but not to me, damn it! Hormonal imbalance is not nearly paranormal enough to happen to me. How can my time be running out when I'm not even forty?

I did all the tests I could think of to try and find something else. Weeks and weeks of tests and they all led to the same conclusion: I was entering a menopause.

I found myself at Dr. Parenti's office again, this time as a patient.

"Can it be reversed?"

"No."

"Can it be stopped?"

"No."

"Can I still have children?"

"Maybe, if you start immediately."

Now I knew how Mulder felt when he found out he was barren. As soon as I realized it's too late for me to have a child it was the only thing that I wanted. I've never given it much thought before, and suddenly I wanted it desperately.

"What do you mean immediately? I am a single woman. I don't even remember the last time I went on a date."

"You shouldn't let that stop you. I can help you find a suitable donor. We can even try your partner's sample, though I wouldn't recommend it, it's not viable enough to…"

"My partner's… He still has some left?"

Now I also knew why Mulder asked me to be the donor. When I was the one needing it, I couldn't think of anybody but him.

"He has all of it left, Ms Scully. After his diagnosis he called of the procedure."

"What diagnosis? What are you talking about?"

"He didn't tell you? Well… Maybe he was waiting for the right time. Since you are his doctor I don't see any reason to hide what I know from you."

Doctor Parenti proceeded to tell me that Mulder was terminally ill, that even if I find him I will not find him alive, since his time run out anyway and it wasn't possible that he could survive for this long, and that he left me full access to his stored sperm, to do with it as I please. He shoved lots of papers under my nose, referred me to his colleague for more information, offered his advices and condolences. Somehow I managed to stay conscious through all of that, though I wasn't able to read anything he showed me, the letters just flew around with his words and I was slowly losing the ability to listen as well. It didn't matter, nothing mattered anymore. It all came down to this: the only live part of my partner was frozen in a cup, waiting for me as his legacy. It was the only part of him I will ever get back…


	11. Scully's body

"Please Dana," my mother insisted: "Don't do this to yourself."

"It's my body," I argued her: "I can do what I want with it."

"Scully, you can't," Skinner took her side: "He was your partner!"

"He IS my partner! And he left this to ME!"

"He's gone, darling," mom said: "It doesn't matter to him now. Be reasonable."

"Listen to your mother, Scully! You can't do this alone."

"Leave me alone, both of you!"

"Scully…"

"Dana…"

"Don't tell me what I can or can't do! I am perfectly capable of making my own decisions. And don't tell me to be reasonable! That's the last thing he would want from me!"

"He would want to know the answers," Skinner said: "Autopsy can provide them for us, you know that better than anybody. We need to know what killed him."

"I know what killed him," I disagreed: "He was terminally ill. He wasn't killed by your aliens and I'm not opening him up to prove it to you. His body belongs to me now and I won't let anybody touch him again. I won't let anybody come near him! He's suffered enough."

I was exhausted by the time they left. I had to promise both of them to call as soon I'm done in order to get rid of them. I appreciated their help with funeral and wake arrangements, but this was something I had to do by myself.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes for a second, before opening the freezer and pulling Mulder out of it. He was a mess and I had lots of work to do in order to make him presentable. I was determined to have him in open casket, to be able to look at him as long as possible. He would want to have a clear view at his funeral service too, I believed.

Tears started to flood my face and I wiped them immediately, pulling myself together. I will have the rest of my life to cry, but I will never have another evening with him. This was the last one.

Having Mulder's dead body on the table in front of me was more than I could hope for. It was highly unlikely to happen, since he was missing for so long. I had no hope of seeing him alive again, and even seeing him dead was a miracle. A painful, heartbreaking miracle.

I started to clean him, slowly, carefully, taking all the time in the world. There wasn't a single spot on his body that I left untouched, memorizing every muscle, every hair, every bruise... I was sure the smell of his skin and the coldness of it would haunt me forever.

He was so cold, much colder than I was that night in Bellefleur and I wanted to lie on the table with him to warm him up, to give him back some of the warmth he gave me then.

What have you done Mulder? Where did you go? How did you manage to get rid of Skinner and convince him it was aliens? Was that your idea of going out in style? Was dying in my arms just too ordinary for your taste?

If only I could see your eyes, your beautiful tortured eyes that carried the mysteries of the world in their depths. If only I could lose myself in their warmth, just once again…

Goodbye, my friend.

What happened between then and the funeral I can't recall. I was too numb for anything to reach me, I functioned on auto pilot. But when it came to the funeral I was fully alert again. Everything had to be perfect and it almost was.

I did hurt my brother, though. I attacked him after his comment that he hopes I will get a normal partner this time, one who would never put me through… I don't know through what since I didn't let him finish the sentence and it took all three of Lone Gunmen plus Skinner to separate us.

That from the one brother who did bother to show up…

Everybody seemed to be afraid of coming close to me afterwards, but I didn't mind, I even preferred it that way. Even if anybody could be of any comfort to me, I didn't want it, I didn't deserve it. My partner was dead and even though I didn't cause his death I didn't prevent it either. There probably wasn't anything I could have done to prevent it.

But what if there was?

I walked to my body - Mulder's body - one last time and as I lightly stroked his hair I lowered my lips on his for one long last kiss. I wanted him to know he had that. I wanted everybody around us to know that he had that.

My tears fell on his face, but this time it didn't wake him. My kiss didn't wake him.

I smiled fondly and whispered, since this part was only for him to hear: "Do you mind if I name your baby Fox?"

If that doesn't wake him, nothing will! It didn't, of course. I closed the casket and my heart went to the ground with him, but I had another heart to keep me going, another heart that was already beating inside me…


	12. Back from the dead

"Do you mind if I name your baby Fox?"

Of course. Of course I mind. Good thing I will never have a baby. You can't mess that up for me, Scully!

Scully. I see her sometimes. She is standing next to some grave or something like that, asking someone to take care of Emily and promising to take care of his baby in turn. I don't understand why, since Emily is well cared for by her mother, Miss Sim. They are together forever, even when Emily comes to play with me. She is happy, she is safe. How come Scully can't see that?

Sometimes my mother comes to visit, sometimes my father, but never together. They never say anything, they just watch me for a while and then simply vanish. Melissa says it's not easy for them to communicate, even if they wish to, they don't know how. It's easy for her. She knows how.

She says I'm not completely with them yet, I haven't crossed to the other side. I am stuck in between, with both worlds somewhat available to me, but neither one completely. I can't move forward, but I can't go back either.

Samantha never comes. Melissa says she's close, but it's not safe for her to approach me. I yearn for her too much, I miss her so much that it hurts and here my feelings would hurt her soul. She will be able to come when I find my peace and no matter how long it takes, it will eventually happen. She is staying close until then. She will never leave me. I want to believe that. I want it badly. It's hard but I don't have a choice than to trust Melissa. She is the only one that is able to stay fully present with me.

I don't feel my body anymore. I don't even know where it is. I don't miss it though. If I could have it back I wouldn't know what to do with it. It's better this way.

Still, the connection with it remains. My body won't let me leave. I ask Melissa to help me, but she says it's not my time.

"Go back to Dana, Fox," she tells me: "Sorry, _Mulder_."

"Go back to darkness. You are not ready for light yet."

"Light is not ready for you."

How can I go back when I don't know where that is?

"You need to want it bad enough."

I don't want it at all.

"Go back to Dana."

I don't want to.

"Go back to Walter."

Why?

"He's looking for you. Just go."

How?

"Think about him, Fox."

I don't think about him. I don't want to.

Skinner appears anyway.

He's at the graveyard, digging up some grave. Why is he doing it? Whose grave is it?

When he opens the casket I find myself face to face with my body. A loud scream passes through my whole being. This is not happening! It found me! This is not happening!

I have no chance in hell against my body. It pulls me in, absorbs me hungrily and I am lost again. I forget everything. There's only darkness left. Cold darkness. No thoughts, no memories, no feelings. Nothing.

Until I move my hand. I don't feel it, but I move it. I don't feel my head but I move that as well. I open my eyes to see Scully next to me. She is crying. I don't know why. I don't feel sad. I don't feel happy. I don't feel a thing.

My lips move and sounds come out, but I don't understand them. Scully is talking to me and I'm talking back, but that's an auto pilot. I just watch our conversation from the distance. It doesn't concern me.

It's darkness again.

Then Skinner. He looks sad too. Why is everybody feeling blue? Where is Scully?

"She needs some space," Skinner tells me: "She'll be back tomorrow. This is hard for her. I think she's blaming herself, for not going with you, for not believing my story, for burying you… But the truth is she saved you, Mulder. She didn't allow an autopsy on you, and she found a way to heal you from this alien virus…"

Alien virus? Skinner must be making fun of me. I don't care. My body's auto pilot is making sounds again, but I'm not even listening.

Darkness.

Scully again. She's telling me that I'm not even sick, I'm not even dying anymore. My terminal illness is gone. Death heals everything, apparently, if you manage to escape it. I wasn't trying to escape it, though, it was trying to escape me. Even death doesn't want to have anything to do with crazy old Spooky.

I let auto pilot talk to Scully. I still don't give a damn.

I still don't feel a thing.


	13. Zombie's touch

I unlocked the door of Mulder's place, as I've been doing almost daily for the last three months. I've been paying the rent, feeding his fish and keping everything clean and in order. It made me feel closer to him and I wasn't ready to give it up, despite my mother's protests and insistence that it's time to let go and move on.

I would sit on his couch for hours and pray for his soul. I prayed for his child and for the strength to keep going without him.

This time, God has answered more than I dared to ask. He gave Mulder back to me.

I entered the apartment and he followed me.

"Something looks different," he said, observing his living room.

"It's clean," I guessed.

"No," he disagreed: "That's not it."

As he walked around, touching his things and staring at them, I took the time to take of my coat. I never once took it of during his time in hospital, partly because I was afraid of his reaction and partly because I didn't want to confuse him further by adding another thing to everything that he had to process. I couldn't keep it away from him for much longer. It was the time to tell him.

I stood there for a long time, searching for the right words and praying for courage to deal with his reaction, whatever it might be. I told him in my mind thousands times, never imagining telling him in his face. I would have never done what I did without his permission if there was any hope of ever having him back.

He walked through all the rooms without looking at me once and I gave him time to accustom with his home, while I just stared at the fish swimming peacefully in their tank.

When he got tired or bored of wandering around he came back to the living and sat on the couch. He stared briefly at the wall and then finally directed his gaze towards me. His eyes skipped mine and settled straight on my belly. Trust Mulder to instinctively know where to look!

I held my breath as he observed me.

"You are gaining weight," he said flatly and I couldn't hold back a chuckle. That's my Mulder! Why did I expect any other remark?

"I'm pregnant," I said as I joined him on the couch. As hard as it was to say those words, they were only the easy part of my confession.

His expression didn't change a bit. He observed my belly for a few more moments, than finally raised his gaze to meet my eyes.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because you wanted it," I answered.

He kept staring at me with unreadable expression which I just wasn't able to handle.

"I used your sample," I whispered.

"It's my baby?" he asked, and his expression changed just a tiny bit with a hint of surprise, a hint of curiosity.

I simply nodded, giving up on words.

"I want to feel it, Scully," he said as he reached in my direction. I thought he was going to place his hand on my belly, but he slid it straight into my pants instead.

"Mulder!" I protested, moving away from him: "What are you doing?"

"I just want to feel it, Scully," he said as a matter of fact and slid his hand deeper, unfazed by my reactions. My whole body stiffened as he slid his finger inside me, but I didn't stop him. It this is what he needs, I'll endure it for him. Even in his zombie state I trusted Mulder not to hurt me.

I tried to will my body to relax as he probed me with a second finger, stretching me further and going deeper in search for our miracle. As a father it's was only fair he gets to go down there, one way or another. I couldn't deny it to him.

By the time the third finger joined the party my pain and embarrassment started to give way to pleasure and my hips involuntarily thrust in his direction, as I moaned his name.

He stopped abruptly, but didn't move away. I felt his gaze on my face, but I couldn't force myself to return it. I breathed deeply, my eyes closed, unaware of anything besides the feeling of him inside me. Whatever that was, I didn't want it to end.

Finally, I opened my eyes and boldly met his. His expression was still blank, his eyes still empty. It gave me chills. He stared at me for a moment, then removed his fingers and just walked away. He didn't go far, only to stand by the window, as if there wasn't any place for him to go to, literally and metaphorically.

Seeing him like that brought tears to my eyes, which I didn't bother to try stopping. I left the couch too and went to stand by his side. I didn't look through the window as he was doing, the outside world didn't concern me at the moment. I lowered my forehead on his arm instead while gently stroking it with both of my hands, as if my touch could bring the life back into his tortured body.

"I can't feel it, Scully," he said: "I don't feel the baby and I don't feel you either. I don't feel myself."

"But I do," I said, sobbing hard into the side of his arm: "I can feel you, Mulder... I feel you so strong! I feel all of us…"


	14. Out of character

"Mulder, wake up! Mulder…"

"What now?" I was getting really annoyed with Scully not letting me sleep. She would say I had a nightmare, but I never remembered dreaming anything.

"You were calling Melissa," Scully said with her puppy eyes: "Did she come to you Mulder? In your dreams?"

"I don't think so, Scully."

"What did she say to you? Did she have a message for me? She never comes to my dreams…"

"Oh for God's sake, leave me alone! I told you I don't remember! Would you just let me sleep for once?"

"Mulder…" her eyes were already filling with tears. I was getting tired of having her fall apart around me all the fucking time. Of all the feelings, rage decided to return first and I found myself overcome with it. I didn't mind. It was only reasonable to feel it and justified by all accounts.

I wasn't allowed to go back to work soon and mandatory leave was driving me crazy. My partner had a new partner, some sorry excuse for the FBI agent. I hated agent Carter for using my office, going through my files and working with Scully. I didn't want to share her with anybody, I was the first partner she ever had and I wanted to be the only one. I hated Carter for coming between us.

He wasn't the only one on my black list. I hated Skinner, too, for coming up with this brilliant idea of his to dig up my grave just because some dead guy turned out not to be dead at all and he wanted to see if that trick works on me too. I was better of in the grave, sir!

Scully, however, was on top of my list. And it was time for me to stop vegetating and take back control of my life. I wasn't yearning for revenge, I just wanted what's rightfully mine.

"I want the baby, Scully," I told her when she didn't show any interest in leaving my apartment. If I was going to be denied sleep, at least I could use that time to straighten some things up.

"I would never keep it away from you, Mulder," she said: "You are his father."

"That's not good enough, Scully."

"What do you mean?"

"I want to raise it."

"Mulder, you can come by whenever you want and spend as much time…"

"That's it Scully! I don't want to come by! I don't want visitation rights! And I sure as hell don't want my kid to grow up on tofu and salads! I want the child HERE, with me!"

"A child needs to be with its mother!"

"It needs a father too!"

"I would never deny you that, but Mulder, please listen to reason…"

"Damn it, Scully! This was my last chance! You took it away from me!"

"You asked me for this!"

"I asked you to be a donor, not a custodian!"

"Mulder, please! Don't ask me to give up my baby! I can't do that! I can't!"

"What makes you think that I can?"

"We can work this out, I'm sure we can…"

"I don't want to work out anything with you! I just want what's mine!"

"Please, Mulder… I love you… Don't do this me…"

"Oh for the love of God, will you ever stop crying? I'm sick and tired of your damn tears! And don't talk to me about love! What do you know about love? You are just a heartless frigid whore who used her dead partner to get pregnant, because nobody in his right mind would ever take her to bed with him!"

"Mulder…"

"Get away from me, Scully! GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!"

Finally, she left.

I still wasn't able to sleep.


	15. Skinner in the middle

"Come in, agent Scully," I invited her: "Take a seat."

She stood at the door for a few moments, looking at Mulder, who was staring back at her. I was afraid she might run away. She looked so small and fragile, the way I've never seen her before.

Finally, she approached my desk and sat next to agent Mulder.

"Alright, now that you're both here," I started: "I want to know what's going on between you two."

"Sir?" Scully asked, sounding genuinely surprised: "What do you mean?"

"I mean, agent Scully, that agent Mulder is coming back to work and he's refusing to work with you because of, as he claims, legal conflict of interests."

"I'm not refusing," Mulder objected: "I just don't think it would be a good idea at the moment, considering the circumstances."

"Because you're suing her at court," I said, still not able to believe it.

"That's right, sir," Mulder agreed.

"Agent Scully, what do you have to say about that?"

Scully stayed quiet for a second, looking at the floor. Then she raised her head and met my eyes: "He wants to take my baby from me."

"That's none of his business, Scully," Mulder told her: "You don't own him any explanations."

"He wants to take my baby," Scully repeated, ignoring him. The pain in her eyes was unbearable, but her words didn't make any sense to me.

"I don't understand," I admitted: "Agent Mulder, is this true?"

"What I want is _my_ baby," Mulder said calmly: "It just happens to be hers as well."

"Agent Scully?"

"It's true, sir."

"But that's not possible! Mulder was already gone when you got pregnant!"

"Tell him, Scully."

"I… went through… artificial insemination…"

"With my last sample."

"WHAT?!"

"I'm barren, sir. This baby is my last chance for parenthood."

"Agent Scully? Tell me this is not true!"

"I wish I could, sir. Unfortunately, it's true."

"Why, Dana?"

"I thought he's never coming back… I thought it was my last chance… All I had left of him…"

"I wasn't aware that you two were involved in that way."

"We weren't, sir."

"Almost, sir. But no."

"What do you mean almost, Scully?"

"Mulder, you don't remember, but I do. You are not the man you used to be…"

I stared at them staring at each other. They didn't make any sense. Not that they usually do, but this was way out of line. Out of character, out of damn mind!

"Can't you work this out outside of court?" I asked, not knowing what else to say. I wasn't trained to deal with this kind of situations. This kind of situation wasn't supposed to happen, not even in the X files division.

"No, sir, we can't," Scully answered me, her gaze still set on Mulder: "I'm not giving him my baby."

"I'm not giving it to you," Mulder said, obviously not to me.

"Oh for God's sake," I snapped: "Has any of you two ever heard of SHARING?"

"It would never work," Scully almost whispered. Mulder just nodded. She lowered her gaze but he still kept his eyes on her. They both looked pained and exhausted. I've watched those two go through hell for each other countless times. I never thought I would live to see the day they do it WITH each other. I had no idea what to do about that. I'm not just their superior, I consider myself to be their friend, as well. Friend or not, I had a hard time suppressing the need to put them over my knees and spank them to their senses.

God, how will their baby turn out? I hope I'll never have to work with him, or her.

"Agent Mulder, is court really necessary?" I tried to reason with him: "No judge will rule in your favor, mother always gets the custody."

"We will see about that, sir."

"I thought you cared about Scully."

"I do care about her. I care a lot. But in this case I have to stand for my child."

"By taking it from it's mother?"

"She can see the baby as much as she wants."

"Agent Scully, are you okay?" I turned to her. She was in tears.

"Yes, sir… It's just hormones…"

I pushed the box of tissues in her direction and she thanked me, taking few of them.

"I'm sorry, Scully, I never meant to hurt you," Mulder told her gently.

"All the things you said to me, Mulder… I never thought you are capable of it…"

"I didn't mean it. Any of it! I was angry. And… confused… You don't know what's it like…"

"Damn it, Mulder! Stop blaming death for everything!" she yelled at him. They obviously forgot they were in my office and I didn't dare to remind them. It's not a wise move to stand between Mulder and Scully, especially when they're throwing fire at each other. Being in my office might have actually made it safer for them to talk, without killing each other that is.

"You need help Mulder," she said gently, even though through tears: "You are acting… Bizarre! It's like you… You lost your inhibition. You forgot how to function in a society."

"I'm getting help, Scully," he said calmly: "My lawyer insisted that I see a psychiatrist. He enrolled me in anger management program and thinks I'm making a good progress. I have my emotions under control."

"Do you even have any emotions left?"

"My head is clear. I'm not a danger to anyone. I'm fit to be a parent, Scully."

"I never said you aren't. I just can't believe you are trying to take the baby from me!"

"You are the one who started it, Scully. I never expected you to betray me like this… You leave me no choice."

I stood up and left the office. They obviously had a lot to talk about and I didn't want to dismiss them while they're trying to find a mutual language, but I couldn't listen to that anymore. It was too personal and embarrassing to witness.


	16. Whose baby

Things were certainly looking up. I was back at work, but in the real office this time. I didn't miss the basement, or the X files. It was the thing of the past and there was no point in looking back. People were avoiding me more than usual, but that suited me just fine. Less social interactions meant less opportunity to get angry over something, but not even anger was that difficult to control anymore and it gave me more energy than trouble.

I didn't need anybody, not even Scully.

Then the phone call came.

There's always a phone call when you don't need it.

"Mulder, get your ass to the hospital, now!" Skinner wasn't wasting any time.

"Sir? What's going on?"

"Your son is born," he said it as if it was a bad news. Well, it was. I wanted a daughter. I curled my fingers into a fist and took a deep breath to prevent myself from punching a wall. I told myself to stay calm, just one little mistake could cost me my… son. But the hearing wasn't scheduled for the next two weeks. I'll have to call my lawyer to try and rush things. The kid wasn't supposed to be born for the next… almost three months? What the hell?!

"It's too soon," I told Skinner.

"Yes," he agreed: "He's in a critical condition, but he has good chances of surviving."

Good chances? It means he could die? Now I did punch the wall. If I don't lose him to Scully, I might lose him to death. It wasn't fair.

"What happened?" I asked. My hand was bleeding. Damn it! If someone sees this and Scully's lawyer finds out I'm history! I will never get the baby, whether he lives or not.

I punched the wall again.

I will have to paint it after this.

"There's been a shooting," Skinner said: "Agent Carter is dead. Scully is in the surgery. They are trying to save her, but even if she lives… She was conscious when they brought her here, and she asked to see her lawyer. She signed the papers. The baby… He's yours. Now get the hell over here before it's too late for him!"

"What…" but he already hung up on me. I stared at the phone in my uninjured hand. I wasn't angry anymore, but something felt wrong.

Scully signed the papers. I won. It should feel better than it did.

On my way to the hospital all I could think about was Scully. She wasn't going to make it. Why else would she give the baby to me? I did this to her, I thought. That one sentence kept repeating itself over and over in my mind.

I did this to her. I did this to her!

I tried to analyze that thought. It didn't make sense. I didn't do anything to her! I didn't shoot her, I didn't sent her to… Wherever she was when whoever shot her. I wasn't her partner, I wasn't there and I wasn't supposed to be there.

I did this to her.

But I didn't do anything! Okay, I sued her, but that didn't put her in danger. It was a logical thing to do. We couldn't agree about who gets the baby, so it made sense to let the judge decide. It's what he does. It's his job.

I did this to her!

I didn't do ANYTHING to her!

Oh god, I did this to her!

I finally got it. It wasn't a thought, it was a feeling.

I couldn't distinguish which feeling, but it was a strong one. It was overwhelming. All my anger management classes couldn't prepare me for the intensity of this one. Anger was nothing compared to this. This was not manageable at the slightest.

I don't remember parking the car and entering the hospital. I remembered Scully, though. I remembered how it felt to lose her, to Duane Barry, to Phaster, to cancer… How it felt to get her back – this time I would not get to feel that one again. Even if she lives, she will never want to see me again. Why should she? I took her baby from her! I took the reason to live from her!

I did this to her!

I sued her, for God's sake! How could I?

I finally remembered why I wanted her to be the mother of my child. But I couldn't, for the love of god, remember why I wanted to take it from her.

"Where is she? WHERE IS SHE?!" I yelled through hospital halls, shrugging away like flies those who tried to stop me. I had to get to her. I had to make this right before it's too late.

Skinner had to handcuff me to himself and push me against the wall to immobilize me. He was stronger than me, I couldn't escape his grip. I could only yell, but he yelled right back at me.

"Shut the fuck up, agent Mulder!" he slapped me, hard: "If you don't calm down they are going to sedate you and I don't want it to come to that! You need to be awake and alert for your child. You are all he has now. You are a father, Mulder, so you'd better start acting like one!"

"I need to see her," I said, sobbing now, unable to control the tears.

"You can't see her," Skinner said a little softer: "She's in surgery and that will take hours. It's not good, Mulder. Even if she lives she might never walk again, not to mention taking care of a baby! She insisted on saving him and it might have cost her her life."

"It's all my fault…"

"Mulder, the hell of a lot is your fault, but not this!"

"I know you hate me, sir, I know everybody hates me, but I didn't know why, I didn't… understand… I couldn't… feel… anything… I was… dead, sir. I'm still dead, sir."

My knees gave up on me and my whole body shook, completely out of control. Skinner's body and the wall were the only things keeping me in upright position. He must have realized that, since he pressed me even harder.

"I don't hate you, Mulder, but I am mad as hell at you," he breathed in my face. I grabbed his shirt to hold for my dear life that was coming back to me in all its dirty, messy, agonizing glory and I pressed my head into his shoulder, desperate for a human contact that I denied to myself for so long. Skinner wrapped his arm around me, awkwardly but firmly.

"At least you are back, Mulder," he said, barely above whispering: "I thought I lost you both…"


	17. Fight for life

Scully's baby was the ugliest thing I ever saw, yet I couldn't keep my eyes off of him. He was so tiny and fragile with skin that you could almost see through, it was truly a miracle that he survived. But just like his parents he was a fighter, for which he instantly gained my respect.

Just when I thought nothing they do can surprise me anymore, Mulder and Scully came up with a baby!

Why on Earth did they make him was beyond my capabilities of understanding, and honestly, it wasn't any of my business. Why they then declared a war over him is even a bigger mystery. I guess having unprotected sex was too normal for their style. They had to make an X file even of reproducing.

I watched Mulder sit next to the incubator for hours. I would come to the hospital once a day to drag him home to take a shower and put some food into him. Then I would take him back there to hold that tiny hand and keep a watch over that precious life, I didn't trust him to drive in a condition he was in. I couldn't make him sleep, though. He kept saying he doesn't sleep anymore…

I watched my friend cry when he took the baby in his arms for the first time. It was a huge relief for me too when the kid's life stopped hanging by the thread, when he gained a more natural color and was allowed to join the rest of us outside the weird life of tubes and incubators.

"I need you to be his godfather," Mulder said to me. It was a statement, not a request. I guess he didn't have anybody else to ask.

"You want to baptize him?" I was surprised.

"I have to. For his mother," he explained, as if he was no longer allowed to say Scully's name.

He certainly wasn't allowed to see her. Nobody except immediate family members was allowed to go to her. Her brother supplied me with all the necessary paperwork for her sick leave, but he wouldn't tell me anything more about her condition. I had a feeling he blamed me for the accident. I guess he had to blame someone.

If he lived, agent Carter would probably take all the blame. He just wasn't up for the challenges of working on the X files. He didn't follow the protocol and apply necessary safety measures, which ultimately led to exposing him and his partner to a shooting that could have easily been avoided. He wasn't a coward, though. When Scully fell from the first few shots that got her, Carter covered her with his body and took the rest of them. He not only saved her life, but the life of her child as well.

Carter's sacrifice must have been enough in God's eyes, since he didn't take Scully's life too. He let her live, but not without a price. Her condition stayed critical for much longer than her son's. From the information I got she was facing months and months of hard and painful physical therapy, and even then she will probably never recover enough to return to her work as a special agent.

Somehow, though, I felt that she would. Maybe it was just a hope, but if anybody could beat all the odds it was her.

I reassigned Mulder back to the X files. There just wasn't anybody else remotely qualified for the job. I reduced his duties to office work though, and allowed him to take his son to work with him. An infant in the basement wasn't a cause of a distraction to other agents, most of them didn't even know he was there, and it gave me an opportunity to keep an eye on him. I owned Scully as much.

Besides, he was my godson.


	18. No baby

"Where is the baby, Dana?" my brother asked me sharply. It was obvious he wasn't going to leave me alone without a satisfying explanation. Not this time.

What could I tell him? Not the truth. My family didn't know about the law suit and I wanted to keep it that way. Bill would want to kill Mulder, I'm sure of that, and what good would come out of it? Unless they contact Mulder, my family will stay in the dark about the parenthood of my baby. They would never suspect, since Mulder was long gone at the time I got myself pregnant. And they knew about the rift between us – Bill had a hard time trying not to show his relief over it – so being out of my life meant Mulder was out of my family's lives as well. It wasn't likely any of them would try to reach him.

"Dana?" Bill insisted on an answer.

"I had no choice," my voice broke.

"What did you do?" he was losing patience. My brother is a loud macho type, the dog who barks but doesn't bite kind of a man.

"Bill, please," my mother tried to calm him down, but she wanted an answer just as much as he did.

"I gave him up," I whispered through tears.

"We heard as much, Dana," my mother said sadly, holding my hand: "But what we don't understand is why…"

"Look at me, mom! I'm in no condition to raise a child!"

"Your condition is only temporary."

Yes. But it wasn't supposed to be. I didn't think I would live. Some doctor I am, calculating my own chances so poorly, beating the odds again, even when I had no Mulder by my side, even without a will to live!

I gave him up. I signed the papers. I can't just come back to life and demand to have him back. Even though Mulder did exactly that to me.

But this is not about Mulder and me. This is about our child and his wellbeing must come first. I will not drag him through courts and let media find out and ridicule his story. I don't want my baby to grow up with a baggage like that.

"Where is he Dana?" Bill wasn't letting go.

"I gave him up," I repeated and the weight of those words crushed on my soul. The loud, primal scream escaped from my wounded body as I mourned the loss only a mother who never saw her child can experience.

"My s-son! I gave him up!"

I cried and I screamed as my world fell apart over and over again, until the nurse came and sedated me to the merciful oblivion.

I woke up tied to the bed. I woke up screaming. I always woke up screaming as the sleep could only last as long as the painkillers did, and pain was sharp and unbearable. I relished it, though. Physical pain was a welcomed distraction from emotional emptiness that followed my losses.

They found me unconscious under my partner who bled to death on me. As I kept falling in and out of consciousness I focused all my energy on delivering the message: Save the baby! Call my lawyer! Save my baby!

I couldn't die before I sign the papers. I couldn't die on Mulder while he's holding a grudge on me. He had to know I trust him with the baby. I had to make sure Mulder gets the child, as I knew no one else will ever love him and protect him as much as his father does.

It was the act of a dying woman, but as that woman pulled through I realized it was the only right thing to do. Mulder wanted that child much longer and much stronger than I did and I didn't even try to consider his request for custody. I was willing to give him limitless visitation rights, but only under my terms and those were non negotiable. I didn't let him question my belief that maternal rights outweigh paternal ones in every way possible, as if carrying the baby made me much more important part of the equation. It wasn't fair to him at all, as I know he would be much more willing to go through the pregnancy than I was, if only he could.

I left him no choice but to get a lawyer. If only I listened, maybe he would listen too. Maybe we could have come up with a mutual solution, people do it all the time! Sure we could! We solved so much more complicated cases than this.

I screwed up this time and it had cost me my son and my friend. It was all my fault. Mulder came back to me from the grave and as I healed his body I neglected his soul. He needed help beyond my capabilities and I was too proud to acknowledge that. I thought I could do it alone. I thought I knew best what he needs.

I didn't know a shit!

I could only hope that our child will be able to fill the emptiness in his eyes, but I couldn't hope to be allowed to witness it. Mulder didn't come to visit me in the hospital, not even once, and as much as it broke my heart I couldn't blame him. Nobody came besides my mother and brother. At first I was too weak to be allowed to have visitors, then Bill made sure it stayed that way as I got better, and I didn't care to object. If Mulder wanted to see me, no rules could stop him. Clearly, he didn't.

I lost my old partner due to my ignorance. I lost my new partner due to my mistake of trusting him as I would trust Mulder. But Agent Carter was not as experienced and we never found a common language. He despised me and my work, seeing his assignment to the X files as a punishment. We fought a lot, but it wasn't constructive as my fights with Mulder used to be. He got us in trouble, but he saved my life, too. I didn't understand why. Maybe it was his punishment for me. There couldn't be a worse punishment than life without Mulder and our baby.

I worked hard at my physical therapy, relishing the painfulness of it. Anything to stop me from thinking! I had to get to the wheelchair as soon as possible, so that I could roll myself to Skinner and beg him for reassignment to something I could manage, preferably in another city, as far away from painful memories as possible.

I had to work. It was the only thing that could keep me sane. If it could…


	19. Dear son

Dear son,

I will have to leave you soon, but don't ever think I just walked away from you. You are the best thing I ever made, even though I didn't participate much in any part of your making. Your mother did everything. She found what was taken from me and created a miracle with it. You belong to her. Everything I own belongs to her, even I myself. I forgot that for a while, but I will never allow myself to forget it again.

Not that it makes a difference now. I lost her for good.

I don't know where she is, but I will find her for you. I will find her and give you back to her. That's the only thing I can do for you, my beloved child, but it's the only thing you will ever need from me. You'll see. Trust me, kid.

Skinner says she send her letter of resignation through mail, never coming to his office. I guess she went back to being a doctor, and that's why I take you to our undercover walks around hospitals and stare at their entrances until you get bored and start crying. I want to believe one day she will come out of one of those doors.

I want to believe I will be ready then.

How do I get ready to give you up, my son? You are the only person who laughs at my jokes, the only one who tolerates my touch. How can I ever go on without your little arms around my neck? I can't do that with fish. You will never even remember me, and I want to keep even your dirty diapers, to remind me of you. To remind me you are real. I look at you every day, I shower with you, run with you and sleep with you, but I still can't believe you're real.

How did Scully do it? How could she sign you off to me? Did she think no judge would give her the custody after her terrible accident? Did she really think I would go through with it? I would never do that to her.

I was going to, though. God, how could I? It wasn't me, son. You have to believe me. Even if she tells you…

No! Believe whatever she decides to tell you. She's your mother, she will know best. How can I be sure that I'm myself now? I can't ask you to trust me, when I can't even trust myself.

She's the only one I trust.

You have to eat more, kid. I want you strong and healthy for your mother. She will be proud of you, I know she will. You just wait and see! You have her color and her eyes. I hope she won't mind that you have my hair. If she ever sees me in you, like I'm seeing her in your eyes every time I look at you, I hope she will remember good times, instead of all the shit I did after dying.

What good times?

Was I ever good to her?

Do me a favor, kid: if you ever find a woman who is brave enough to stand by you when the whole world turns against you, don't ever do anything to push her away. Never miss an opportunity to show her what she means to you. Never take a child from his mother…

Maybe she would let me see you sometimes, but I will not ask. I don't deserve to ask anything from her. I don't deserve you, my son. I love you more than life itself, but I don't deserve you at all.

I cried when I held you in my arms for the first time. I didn't believe something so tiny can survive in this cruel world. But you did. You came home with me and gave me your first smile, your first words… I stole that moments from your mother, and I can never give them back to her. I can, however, give her all those that will follow…

You will love her, son. Just don't forget to tell her. As often as you can.


	20. Dear son, part 2

Dear son,

Today is your birthday and I'm not there to wish you a happy one. I've never even seen you. You don't know that I exist.

Yet I think about you every single day. I pray for you. I miss you. I love you.

I baked a cake for you. It's gluten free carrot cake. No sugar either. Your father would be disgusted by it, but he would end up eating half of it by himself. What kind of cake did he buy for you? Did he even bother to get you one? Did he even remember? He forgot at least half of my birthdays! But those that he didn't…

I think about him every day.

He never came. He never called.

It's true I lost my old phone in the shooting and I didn't give my new number to anybody that knows him. It's true I had to move to a building that's wheelchair accessible and he doesn't have my new address. It's also true I never walked into the FBI headquarters building again.

Still, if he wanted to, he would've found me…

I dream about his phone call every night. The phone rings and I answer. 'Scully, it's me,' he says, followed by: 'He's dead, Scully' in a cold, distant, emotionless voice. It's the same dream every time and every time I wake up screaming for you, my baby.

I don't even know your name…

I'm out of wheelchair now, I can walk again. What about you, my child? Did you make your first steps or are you sticking to a stroller? I can't tell you how many times I got into my car and started to drive to your father's place, determined to park nearby and wait for him to pass by with you, even if it takes hours, even if it takes days… Just to see you from the distance, just once. And I turned my car around every time. He would never forgive me if I spied on him, even if it was because of you, even if he could forgive everything else. He would never know, but I would. If I ever gain courage to go to you, I will knock on his door and face him. I won't hide.

 _When_ I gain courage. I have to see you and he wouldn't deny me that, not if there is still even a little peace of old Mulder alive in him. I can't believe it's been a year already! It's been a hard and long year, it seemed like forever, and yet I can't believe it's over. I've spent so much of it in hospitals, that they even offered me a job in one of them. I've worked longer shifts than any other doctor, but even without enough free time to sleep or eat I still had too much time to think about you.

My physical wounds are healed now, but emotional ones are only getting deeper. Only you can heal those. Would he let you?

Maybe he tried to find me. Maybe he can't. Maybe he's too busy with taking care of you, like I've been busy with my therapies. He should be. Premature babies require so much care.

I can still find him.

I can still find you.

I'm stronger now. Strong enough to walk. Strong enough to carry a cake. I made it for you and I will take it to you! Today! I can't miss your birthday! I missed so much already.

I will beg him if I have to.

We found aliens together. We can certainly find each other again. Even if I have to take that first step and swallow my pride. Even if I have to be the believer this time.


	21. It takes two

The knock on the door almost woke me up, but I was too exhausted after my son's birthday party. I fell asleep on my couch while trying to relax with some adult video. Kids take up so much energy! My son was only one year old but he already had more friends than I had in my whole life!

I heard the lock on the door, but still refused to wake up. In my dreams it was Scully coming inside and that dream I didn't want to end.

"Mulder…"

It was her voice. It sounded too real for a dream. It sounded too real to be real…

I opened my eyes, and she was really standing there, soaking wet from the rain, holding some dish in her hands, one year older, one year sadder, one year more beautiful…

"Can I see him?" she whispered, looking terrified, as if her life depends on my answer.

"He's in the bedroom," I said as I got up and approached her, taking the dish from her.

"I made him a cake," she explained with an awkward smile.

"Go to him, Scully," I nodded: "I'll put this away." But I didn't. I stood there and watched as she disappeared through my bedroom door. Was she really here? Or was I finally losing my mind?

The wet spot on my floor was real. I stared at it, whishing it would never dry. Scully's Oh-my-god-s and unhappy noises from a woken child were real too. I wanted to go inside and hug them both and never let them go. I didn't. This was her moment. She waited for it long enough.

I noticed that my hands started to shake so I held the cake tighter. I didn't trust my legs to take me to the kitchen where I could put it down. I didn't dare to move as if it would break the magic. She was in my bedroom! My son's mother was finally holding him! My birthday wish for him came true.

I don't know how long I stood there before she emerged from the bedroom. I didn't dare to look at her.

"How did you call him?" she asked me.

"Ahab," I said: "After your father."

"Ahab? Mulder, my father's name was William."

"I know, but my father had the same name. I never called him Ahab, though."

"Mulder! You've got to be kidding me!"

"I'm not. Ahab William Mulder Scully," I recited and she chuckled.

"I have a son Ahab," she repeated it as if she wanted to see how it sounds.

"The papers you signed," I told her: "I never did. They are not valid. He's yours."

"I won't take him from you," she shook her head, with eyes full of tears, but none leaking to her cheeks: "I just want to be a part of his life. And… yours… If you'll have me…"

I couldn't say another word. My tears didn't stay in my eyes and she came closer, and reached her hand to wipe them from my cheek, all the while looking deep into my eyes as if she's searching for something important.

"Are you really back?" she whispered.

"I don't know," I admitted, soaking her palm even more: "I don't know who I am."

"But I do," she whispered.

"Why don't you hate me then?"

"I can't. I tried, but I can't."

"I'm sorry Scully. It's all my fault."

"No, Mulder. It took two of us to mess things up. You had your death to blame and I… I guess I could blame hormones, but Mulder… Blaming ourselves or each other will take us nowhere. We have to at least try to work it out, together. For Ahab."

With her hand still on one of my cheeks, she pressed her lips to the other one and kissed away my tears. I wanted to hug her, but I was still holding her cake, which stubbornly stood between us.

There's always something between us…

I told her what I could, crying the entire time. I told her about my inability to feel and emptiness that followed, about the rule of rage and the fall of it, and the latest one, rule of tears, which she was witnessing. I didn't tell her it started with her accident, I didn't want her to know it took her and our child almost dying to bring me back to my senses. I didn't tell her how I cried in Skinner's arms for hours while she was in surgery, and how he held me protectively, not allowing doctors to sedate me, not allowing anybody else to touch me. I didn't tell her about the weeks I spent holding Ahab's hand in the incubator to keep myself grounded, to give me strength. Doctors and nurses thought I was being there for him, but the truth is he was being there for me.

She told me about her recovery, the wheelchairs and physical therapies, nightmares and survivor guilt, how she wanted me to find her but at the same time did everything she could to prevent it from happening. We talked for a long time, still standing in my living room, I still holding the cake and she still wet as hell.

"You need to change those clothes," I finally noticed, also remembering that my coffee table is right behind me, perfectly capable of holding her cake. I wasn't keen on trusting the table with something she made, but I had to get her dried before she caught pneumonia or something.

"I still have your spare clothes somewhere," I said, regretfully putting the cake down. She followed me to the bedroom where I pretended to search for them, not wanting to creep her by pulling them straight out, as if it's been only I yesterday that I put them in my closet.

As I finally turned back to her I was horrified to notice that she already took off most of her wet clothes and stood there only in her underwear.

"I… um… I'm sorry," I mumbled embarrassed, not knowing where to look.

"Here," I placed her clothes on the cabinet and tried to walk out of the bedroom, but she stopped me.

"Stay," she said simply: "My hands are shaking. I need your help."

"Scully…"

"It's ok, Mulder. You can do this."

And I did. All I could think about as I unhooked her bra and slid her panties down her legs was how I should have been doing that the whole time. I should have been there to hold her hand when she was hurting, to carry her when her legs didn't work, to bathe her when she couldn't do it herself. I should have been doing for her all that I've been doing for her son.

I was in tears again by the time I finished undressing her and stood up awkwardly again in front of her.

"It's ok. You can look," she smiled.

"Can I touch?" I said it as a joke, but she nodded, seriously.

So I did. I looked, where I most wanted to look: her eyes. I took her hands in mine and they were really shaking, but so were mine. She was so cold.

"Do you want to take a shower?" I asked her: "Or a hot bath? You need to warm up."

"You once told me the best way to keep warm is to crawl naked into a sleeping bag with someone who is already naked."

"Too bad I don't have a sleeping bag, Scully."

"Can you improvise, then?"

That I could.

That I did.


	22. Bad sex

"I'm sorry, Scully," he sighed: "I've been out of practice."

"No, it's my fault. I'm really quite inexperienced."

I can't say that I wasn't disappointed, but I didn't really care. My only regret was that we did it in front of his son. My son. Our son. Which is more appropriate to call him?

Ahab. I couldn't suppress a chuckle when I remembered his name. It was so sweet of Mulder. So stupid. Insane. I loved it.

He looked at me, intrigued: "Good thing you find this situation amusing."

"Good thing we didn't try to make a baby this way," I responded and he laughed. I laughed. I don't even remember who started first.

Thank god Ahab was still sleeping soundly. Looks like he's a heavy sleeper, must be my genes.

"You know, Mulder," I said when we calmed down a bit: "We just wanted to get me warmed up. I'm warm. So technically, this wasn't a failure."

"Well, when you put it that way…" he propped himself on one elbow to look at me and I smiled, returning his gaze.

"Mulder, can I ask you something?"

"Shoot."

"Since when did you get a single bed?"

"Since Ahab moved in. I had to make room for him. I never thought you'd want to share a bed with me."

"Well, if I knew how bad you were…" I teased him.

"Shut up, Scully," he playfully hit me with a pillow.

"So… You never thought I would?"

"Never."

"What kind of profiler are you?"

"It doesn't work so close to home."

We smiled at each other. I couldn't get my eyes off of him. This really was my Mulder, the one before his death. He was really back. He was really mine. Now also in a way that he never was before. No matter that it sucked.

"Well," he said, getting up: "I'll sleep on the couch. You stay with him."

"Mulder," I stopped him: "I don't care how bad sex is, as long as it's with you."

He nodded seriously, then leaned down to kiss me.

"Whatever happens next, Scully," he whispered: "You will always stay my last."

What a stupid, unreasonable, uncalled for promise!

"Mulder, you're crazy!" I scolded him.

"That's how you like me," he winked at me and I couldn't help but to chuckle again. I felt like a teenager who just lost her virginity.

"Good night, Scully."

"Good night, Mulder."

I turned towards the crib to look at our child. I wanted to look at him the whole night, but the sleep soon took me over and I slept like a baby. Like my baby. No nightmares.

I fell asleep in Mulder's bed, where I could still smell him all around me. I could still feel him deep inside me. Everything was ok with the world, for the first time in truly forever.


	23. Where is Mulder?

I was pissed at Mulder for missing a meeting, but when he didn't show up by lunch time I started to get worried. Maybe something had happened to the kid. I picked up the phone and dialed his home number, which I now knew by heart. It disturbed me sometimes how close we've become.

"Mulder's apartment," a female voice answered. Familiar voice, but I couldn't really place it. Was it one of the moms from yesterday's birthday party?

"Who is this?" I asked impatiently. If he stayed at home to entertain some woman, he's definitely going to hear from me!

"Skinner?" she asked and I froze.

"Scully?" It can't be!

"He's not here," she sighed: "I don't know where he is."

"The child?"

"He's with me."

"I'll be right there!"

I was at Mulder's apartment in less than half an hour. Scully opened the door for me. She was really there! It was really her!

"Hi," I said, not knowing what else to tell her. It's been so long! I was happy to see her, but what did she feel about seeing me? Did she blame me for her accident?

What did she know about my role in her child's life? What did she know about her child at all?

"Hi," she reciprocated, and after a moment's hesitation invited me in.

"Ki!" the boy exclaimed happily and I took him in my arms: "Hello William!"

"You call him William?" Scully asked, surprised.

"I was the one who insisted that he gets a middle name. Ahab sounds like some terrorist," I explained, but regretted it immediately when I saw the hurt on her face. Damn it Walter! That's how she called her father.

"I'm sorry," I tried to fix it: "I didn't mean…"

She dismissed my apology by waving a hand.

"I made him a cake," she changed the subject: "Do you want a piece?"

"Um… Sure. Thank you," I accepted, not wanting to sound rude by declining. I didn't want a damn cake, especially not something fat free that she most likely made. I wanted Mulder. I wanted answers. How do I ask her without sounding like a jerk again?

At least I didn't tell her that I insisted on Mulder's last name for the child, too. I don't know how she would feel about that. Mulder wanted the kid to be only Scully, but I was worried people might think he kidnapped him or something. Besides, giving the kid last name after the mother who gave him up didn't seem likely to bring him the best future.

"What are you doing here?" I finally asked after she handed me the cake. If you can call that thing a cake…

"I… I wanted to see him…"

Which one, I almost asked, but stopped myself in time. What's wrong with you Walter? What right do you have to resent her? It's not your kid she gave up! It's none of your damn business!

"When was the last time you saw Mulder?" I asked, getting to the point.

"It was late, sir. I don't know what time exactly, but definitely after midnight. He went to sleep on the couch and I stayed in his bed. When I woke up in the morning he was gone."

"Did you call anybody?"

"No. I tried his cell phone, but it was turned off. I thought he just went for a run or something."

"You aren't worried that he's not back yet?"

"Now that you're here… I am."

"What were you doing before going to sleep? Were you arguing?"

"No sir."

"What then?"

She was hesitant to answer. She looked at the floor, avoiding my gaze.

"I have to ask this, Scully," I insisted: "You were one of us, you know the protocol."

She raised her head finally and nodded, spitting out the bomb: "We had sex."

At first I thought I heard wrong, but she was deadly serious. She looked at me like a child caught steeling cookies, frightened, but not regretful.

Damn it, Mulder, what have you done now?

"Did he… Did he force you?" I don't know why but I had to ask.

"What? No, oh god, no! It was my idea!"

"Your idea?"

"Yes, sir," she looked at me fiercely, daring me to comment, and before I could stop myself, I did.

"What the hell were you thinking? Do you have any idea how emotionally unstable this man is? Do you know what that could do to him? I thought you were the reasonable one!"

"I thought the same for you," she said, not offended but surprised by my outburst.

"I'm sorry," I apologized, taking off my glasses and rubbing my forehead.

"We are both adults, we have a child together," she shrugged her shoulders: "I don't see what the big deal is."

"You're right, I'm sorry," I repeated: "It's none of my business. I don't know what's gotten into me today, Scully."

"I take it you've been hanging out with Mulder for too long."

I had to smile at that remark: "You're right. He's been a mess, I'm trying to put him back together. I've been helping with a kid, too. He's a great child, Scully!"

She looked lovingly at a boy who was hiding from her behind my leg, holding me protectively. With parents like Mulder and Scully, this kid will certainly one day make some therapist very rich! Thank god he has me to provide him with some sense of normalcy.

"He just needs some time to get used to you, that's all," I tried to assure her and she nodded: "I can give him that. I'm not going anywhere."

She looked sad and much older than the last time I saw her. The last year must have been incredibly hard for her. Who was I to judge her for turning away from all of us who failed to protect her?

"Thank you for taking care of him, sir," she whispered and I took her hand, not trusting myself to try to comfort her with words. Again, I wasn't sure which "him" she was referring to. What courage must it took her to come back after all this time! What heart she must have to be able to forgive so much! I was amazed, as ever, by her ability to put up with my brilliant, but severely damaged man.

"So, you and Mulder?" I asked her: "You are together now?"

"I don't know," she sighed. Of course. He wasn't here. He ditched her right after sleeping with her. What a classic!

"Was it at least good?" I asked to lighten the mood. There was no point on being formal with her, and I could see in her eyes that she desperately needed a friend.

"Off the record, sir? No. It wasn't."

I laughed at that, hoping it was a joke. Poor man should at least be good in bed! Scully started to laugh as well and William decided to join us for some reason. Seeing that I like his mom made him curios about her as well and he took one of his stuffed animals and placed it on her leg. Peace offering. Scully smiled at him and he didn't complain when she took him to her lap. What kind of man leaves something like this to go pursue a hunch or whatever the hell he thought he was doing?

"Give him some time, Scully. He will come back to you," I was trying to reassure myself as much as her.

"How do you know?"

"Because he always does."


	24. Home

I've been driving for days, sleeping in the car, not caring where I'll end up, as long as nobody finds me.

As long as Scully doesn't find me, that is. She said she wouldn't take Ahab from me, so I had to leave her with no choice. I couldn't let her make another sacrifice for me. She already gave me more than I could ever deserve!

It wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. I will miss him, of course I will, but I was able to do for him what I couldn't do for Samantha, even though I dedicated my life to it: I brought him back to his mother!

And what a mother! I thought Ahab was my last chance for a family, not realizing that Scully was my family all along. She was my home. Just days ago I was inside her, for the first time ever I knew how it felt to be at home.

It was amazing! Ok, maybe originally it wasn't, but as farther I drove my imagination further replaced all the mistakes with right moves until I was left with a mere perfection. I had to pull over often just to relive that improved memory.

This was the end. This truly was the end. My son was at home and I was happy. I couldn't stop laughing. If this was a new part of my emotional disorder, I relished it as the best part yet. I've lived in tears long enough.

Finally, finally, finally, I did everything right. Everybody would be happy now. Everybody was where they belonged. My son with my Scully. Me… Where did I belong? Probably nowhere, but who cares about that when I was so happy!

I was inside her!

That… That is to whom I belong to! I finally got it. I didn't belong to a place, I belonged to a woman.

I stopped the car, laughing my ass off. How could I've been so stupid?

"Thanks for ditching me," I remembered her telling me and I laughed so hard it brought tears to my eyes. Sorry Scully, I'm doing it again. It's hilarious!

I tried to think about something sad to stop this laugh attack, but it didn't work. I thought about Scully in coma after her abduction and I laughed at myself for being stupid enough to believe she wouldn't make it. I laughed at Phaster for thinking he would be able to rape her. I laughed at Krycek for having only one arm, at Skinner for being bald, even at my mother for killing herself, as if she wouldn't die anyway had she just had a little patience.

Everything, literally everything I could think about was funny as hell.

In the end I tried some techniques from my anger management class, hoping they would work with laughter, too. Counting to ten was too damn funny so I tried doing it backwards. Hilarious!

Focus Mulder! Close your eyes, take a deep breath. Who the hell invented breathing? He was a fucking genius! Focus Fox! Who calls a child Fox? My parents were funny as hell!

What was I planning to do, anyway? Call my owner, of course. It's just that I didn't have her number. I managed to get her into my bed without asking for her number first! Hilarious!

I turned on my phone and called my home number, just to see if maybe my home is still at my home. How funny is that?

"Mulder's apartment," she answered indeed.

"Hey Scully, it's me."

"Mulder! Where are you?" Her voice was full of anger, worry and fear. It sobered me up instantly.

"I don't know, Scully, on some beach…"

"Listen to me, Mulder!"

"No, you listen to me!" I insisted and she did: "I may be a lousy lover, but do you think you could find some other use for me?"

"Always!"

"Then I want to come home. To you. And to Ahab."


	25. Daddy's home

"Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!" Ahab cried when he saw me. I grabbed him and hugged him fiercely, then rolled on the floor with him.

"Are you drunk, Mulder?" Scully asked looking down at me and I burst laughing at the sight of her so above me, that was a rare occurrence indeed!

"Damn Scully, you are so short!" I laughed at her, lying on my back. Ahab was sitting on my chest and trying to stuff something into my mouth, which only made me laugh harder.

"Where have you been, Mulder?" Skinner asked authoritatively. What a man! It took me a few moments to catch my breath before I managed to answer: "Don't worry, Mr. Ki. I just went for a ride."

"What's wrong with you?" Scully kneeled down next to me and placed her hand on my forehead: "When did this start to happen?"

"When I started to drive. Like… Remember that guy… Who died… Because I stopped driving…" It was hard to talk, since my whole body was shaking from laugh attack.

"You are not making any sense," Scully said.

"Going for a ride doesn't take two weeks, Mulder!" Skinner barked, taking Ahab off of me. Free from the kid, I rolled onto my side, laughing in the carpet. They were killing me with their seriousness! It was funny as hell.

"You see now why you should have kept your hands off of him?" Skinner said accusingly.

"Are you saying this is my fault, sir?" Scully snapped.

"He was fine before you came!"

"Was he, sir? Because I found him in TEARS!"

"Tears are better than… This!"

"So you like him better miserable than happy?"

"Damn it, Scully! Does this look happy to you?" Skinner pointed a hand towards me and they both turned to stare in my direction.

"By all means friends, don't stop now," I encouraged them: "This is the funniest thing I ever witnessed. I want more!"

"You're right sir, this is insane," Scully obliged my request.

"What are we going to do with him?" Skinner did as well.

"I don't know… Did I really do this to him?"

"It's not your fault, Scully. You seem to be the trigger, though."

"What do you mean, sir?"

"This happened when you returned, while the tears started when you got shot. I wouldn't believe it was possible to get dehydrated from crying if I hadn't witnessed it myself."

"But it's not… possible."

"I hope you'll never get to see the proof, Scully," Skinner turned to me, giving me his hand to help me get up: "Come on, buddy, you need to get cleaned up. Let's get you to the shower."

"I'd rather Scully did that!"

"Leave her alone, Mulder. Come on, let's go."

"Oh, Mr. Ki, you are…"

"Hilarious. I know."


	26. Co-parenting

"This place is not big enough for the three of us," Mulder told me one evening. I froze at his words. He was kicking me out!

I knew I stayed at his apartment longer then it was needed or appropriate, but I just couldn't leave Ahab. I couldn't get enough of him. I was so immersed in my baby that I didn't even notice the crowdedness or messiness of the place.

It's been over a month. Mulder's laugh attacks were long under control and he didn't need my help anymore. Yet, I was still sleeping in his bed, but not with him, mind you. Neither of us was eager to repeat that experience. For him it would be too funny and I was terrified by what it might do to him. Or what Skinner might do to me.

"You are right, Mulder," I had to admit: "It's time for me to go. I'll call a cab."

"That is not what I meant," he said seriously, but then started to chuckle.

"But it's the truth, nonetheless," I sighed.

"We just need a bigger place," he said cheerfully.

"What are you suggesting?" I asked, tired of his playfulness. No matter his emotional state, Mulder had a trouble coming to a point.

"I used my inheritance money to buy a house. This is no place to raise a child."

"Then why are you still living here?"

"In case you came by. I wanted you to know how to find us."

I would probably be touched by his words, if they weren't followed by laughter.

"Funny, isn't it?" he said: "I was so naïve!"

"No, Mulder, you were right," I said softly: "I came, didn't I?"

"As I recall it, you didn't. You didn't even bother to fake it."

I had to put my hand on my mouth to suppress laughter from myself this time. It was contagious. I thought I'd better stop talking. He might have been crazy, but he did have a point there.

"Move in with us," he said suddenly.

"Mulder! Are you serious?"

"Yes. Will you?"

"Don't you think you are going a bit too fast?"

"How else can we make this work?"

"I…" I didn't know what to say. There didn't seem to be a right solution for our situation. I couldn't leave Ahab again, but I wasn't going to take him from Mulder either. And I wanted him to have a stable home, not to be forced to move from one place to another and back all the time.

Still, to move in with Mulder? Jesus, I haven't seen him for a year, we couldn't just pretend that everything is ok between us. We might have finally found a common language, but we only had sex once and it turned him into a clown! We were hardly compatible for shared living arrangements.

"Scully, if you are worried about what will other people think, I can just rent a room to you. Maybe in exchange for medical services. It comes handy in my line of work and it's still a pretty good deal for you."

"Mulder, I can't…"

"Just give it a try. What do we have to lose?"

He had a point there.

More than that, he had Ahab.


	27. Living with Scully

Moving in was fun. At least it was for me and Ahab. Scully was constantly nagging about something.

"I can't believe you don't have a stroller, Mulder!"

"I don't need it, Scully. I prefer to carry Ahab. I did some research, and physical contact seems to be very important for proper development. Mothers in rural Africa never put their babies down."

"We are not in Africa, Mulder."

"Well, that's were we all originate from, according to…"

"I don't have time for this. Tomorrow we'll go to shop for a stroller. End of discussion."

"I really don't mind carrying him, Scully."

"Maybe, but I do. I need a stroller, and I'll buy one, you either go with me or don't."

"All right. What else?"

"Diaper bag."

"I have that."

"I'm NOT carrying your filthy backpack!"

"Hey, is my child still acceptable, or do you want to make another one just for yourself?"

"Funny Mulder, but stick to the point."

"Okay, okay, what else do we need?"

"Safety fence for the stairs. New car seat. Baby monitor."

"Fish food!"

"Mulder!"

"What? He has to eat something!"

"Can you please be serious for a second?"

"I am serious, Scully. He already has everything. He has you."

"Oh Mulder! Sometimes I wonder how you both managed to survive for so long without me."

"Mr. Ki said we have to. And you know how much he dislikes disobedience."

My house was soon as safe and sterile as a psychiatric hospital! Ahab couldn't get up the stairs, but neither could I! Only Scully was able to unlock the damn gate, so we had to let her have the upstairs bedroom, while we settled downstairs. At first she insisted that Ahab has his own room, but after a week of his screaming and my sneaking in to sleep on his floor, she gave up on that rule. It was one of the rare victories for me and my son, since Scully was a fierce ruler who wasn't keen on compromises. My bed moved to my son's room, and I turned the rest of my bedroom into an office, my refuge from Scully's orderliness. She was kind enough to let me use my room as I please, and I fully took advantage of that weakness of hers. I even undressed there before going into the shower, because I could never figure out which dirty clothes goes in which basket. It was safer to leave it on my room's floor and do my own laundry while she's at work.

She started to complain about my work, thinking that a basement office is not appropriate place for a toddler to rot in, but I was terrified of the idea of sending my boy to the daycare, away from me. I decided to quit my job and stay at home with him instead. Office work was boring as hell anyway, and I couldn't take the baby on the field. I still had a nice sum of inheritance money left, and Scully said she can support us both until Ahab is old enough for me to go back to work.

Skinner seemed relieved to get me off his back, but I didn't get him off of mine. He was a frequent guest in my home and Ahab insisted that we return his visits often. Skinner had a cat that my son considered to be his best friend. I wanted to get him a cat of his own, but Scully always gave me a deadly look when I dared to suggest it. She said we'd get him a dog when he's older, but for now she was too busy with us to find a time for a pet. I didn't want a dog and neither did Ahab, so I failed to mention my availability when time is concerned.

To be honest though, between Ahab's play dates and various activities Scully engaged him in, I didn't have much time for anything else. I would spend the day driving him around, taking Scully for lunch and making dinner for us in the evening. As my cooking skills got better Scully complained less about the mess I would leave in the kitchen, which she always cleaned up before I even had a chance to get to it.

While I was teaching Ahab how to paint I discovered I was pretty good at it myself. Soon I found myself writing children's books for him, with my own drawings. His friends loved them too, and I ended up publishing them. They were quite a success, as it turned out profiling teddy bears and bad wolfs wasn't any harder than getting into the heads of rapists and serial killers, and children demanded them just as much as FBI yearned to catch criminals.

For the first time since Samantha disappeared, I had a place that truly felt like home.


	28. Living with Mulder

Some days it was nice to come home to my boys and be greeted with freshly baked cookies and home made dinner, then curl on the couch with a movie or a cartoon. It almost felt like a family.

Almost, but not quite. Ahab didn't let me forget the time that I wasn't there for him. He accepted me, but he didn't really trust me, much like his father when I first met him. Mulder gave himself fully to the fatherhood, just as he always gave everything into whatever he was intent on doing. Ahab adored him and they never separated. It wasn't only unhealthy for a child to be so dependent, but it also made no room for me in his life.

Maybe mother's place was already taken by Skinner. I would often come home to find him there and he seemed to belong more than I did. Looking at those two and a half men made me feel like an outsider, like I was intruding on a happy gay marriage.

I tried to busy myself with household chores: doing dishes, laundry, cleaning and picking up toys. Anything to keep my mind off the feeling that my toddler resents me for giving him up, anything to prevent me from thinking about the fact that Mulder moved to Ahab's room and not to mine…

Was I really that bad? Isn't the first time supposed to be awkward? He should have given me at least one more chance…

On the top of everything, Mulder's house was located in the middle of nowhere. Long drives to and from work on a severely empty road with dull scenery left me with no choice but to ponder about where life was taking me.

I lasted a year. I lasted two.

I changed a therapist. I changed two of them. Three.

They all said the same.

What example are you giving to your son by sacrificing your happiness?

I didn't listen.

I didn't want to listen.

It was a blasphemy to think that I deserved to be happy. I resented so much, myself for not working things out with Mulder much sooner, Mulder for not doing the same, Skinner for taking my place, even my mother for winning over Ahab in the way that I wasn't able to.

"I'm just a mean stepmother," I told Mulder one day: "Nothing more than that."

"Scully, that's not true," he said: "You are his mother. You gave birth to him."

"But that's just it, Mulder, I didn't! I was out cold and he was surgically removed from my womb. There was no connection. I never breastfed him, not even once."

"Neither did I, but he turned out fine."

"You were not supposed to! You did everything else."

"Scully…"

"I wasn't there for him."

"I will never forgive myself for pushing you away. If there was a way to fix it…"

"There is. Stop being the good cop!"

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean! Start making rules! Start following them! You two are always having fun and I'm left to clean after you. I'm a mean mummy for trying to maintain some order and teach him good manners."

"Scully, this house already has too many rules."

"What do you mean by THAT?"

"I mean, sometimes I feel like a stranger in my own home."

"Oh, YOU feel like a stranger?"

"Scully, wait!" Mulder pleaded as I turned my back on him and started to climb the stairs to my room.

"I AM waiting," I said without turning to him, without slowing down: "I am waiting for you to grow up! But I'm afraid Ahab will be there sooner than you!"

That night he finally came to my room. He woke me up with kisses and caresses that melted away all residue of my anger. I responded to his touch hungrily and we made love wordlessly, holding our gazes locked on each other the whole time. The earth wasn't shaking, but it wasn't as bad as the first time either.

When it was over he buried his face in my shoulder and held me tight.

"He's just a kid, Scully," he whispered: "One day he'll learn to appreciate everything that you do for him."

"How do you know?" I whispered back, stroking his hair.

"Because I did. One day he'll grow up, as you said, and he will realize that his old man is not as cool as he thought. He's a bright kid, he'll figure out soon enough what a crackpot misfit he has for a father and how brilliant and strong and amazing his mother is."

I didn't know what to say. I wasn't even feeling able to talk, so I just held him and enjoyed his smell, his warmth. We stayed like that for a long time and I was already dozing off when I felt his tears on my skin.

"I know you are not happy here," he whispered: "I know you can't stay. But, please… Don't take him away from me…"


	29. Moving on

Ahab was almost five years old when Scully moved out and found her own place. We made the transition as gradual as possible, trying not to make it into a bad experience for our son. One day she slept at her place, then two days at ours. We often came to visit her and occasionally stayed over, hoping he would start to see it as a second home.

He did. He took it all better than me, if I may say so.

We still had lunches together. We still raised our son together. She was still a part of our daily life, but my house didn't have a female touch anymore, it didn't feel like home anymore. I moved into her room, finding it easier to sleep with her smell around me. The problem was, I had to wash her sheets at some point. I had to accept she was gone.

I still had Ahab, though. I still had my work. My books. Life was shiny and colorful. Life was good. Skinner persuaded me to write about X files, and that's how my first adult book came to life. Well, not that kind of adult book! Scully was my beta reader and she was determined to sabotage my work.

"That is NOT how it happened, Mulder!"

"Sure it is. You would have seen it as well if you weren't unconscious."

"How come I'm always unconscious when things like that happen?"

"I don't know, Scully."

"If you can't explain it, how can you claim it to be true?"

"If I could explain it, it wouldn't be an X file."

"Am I an X file to you as well?"

"The greatest one, Scully! After all these years, I still can't figure you out."

"Maybe you don't know where to look…"

We were careful not to talk about our work at the FBI when Ahab was around. That was one of the rare things we agreed about, wanting him to have as normal childhood as possible. His dad was a writer, his mother was a doctor. No aliens, no monsters, no rapists and killers.

We talked to him about Samantha and Melissa, but he didn't need to know what happened to them and why.

"Why don't I have a sister, like you and mommy had?" he asked me one day.

"Would you like to have a sister?" I asked him.

"Yes. Or a brother. Why don't I?"

"I wish we could give that to you, but sometimes some people just can't have children," I tried to explain.

"How could you have me, then?" he asked. Bright kid.

 _I have no idea how_ , I wanted to tell him.

"We were lucky, I guess," I told him.

"Maybe you'll get lucky again," he said hopefully and I smiled at him. What would it take to explain him about infertility? But even if mine and Scully's fertility was magically restored, without getting us into the same bed there would be no hope. And if that didn't happen but once while we lived together, the odds of it happening with our current relationship status were… Sorry kid, you're going to die an only child!

He didn't need to know about all the strange coincidences that preceded his conception, nor about all the drama that followed.

He deserved to know, though, and one day we would have to tell him everything. I was just hoping that this day never has to come, that he can stay an innocent child forever.

"He will hate me when he learns the truth," Scully feared.

"No," I sighed: "It's me who he's going to hate."

"When are we going to tell him, Mulder?"

"I don't know, Scully. I just don't want it to be on one of his birthdays."

"No, of course not. Maybe when he goes to college?"

"That's too late."

"Mulder…"

"I know. There is no right time for those kinds of things."

"Maybe it would be easier for everybody if we just start talking to him and see how it goes."

"Maybe. You can start practicing that with me, Scully."

"What do you mean, Mulder?"

"You met someone," I assumed. I knew her long enough to see the difference, to hear it in her voice, to sense it around her body, to smell a man all over her.

"Would it bother you if I did?" she asked cautiously, fixating me with her eyes. I held her gaze for a few moments, afraid to think, afraid to fall apart. But I didn't. I was surprised and relieved to find out that I can still breathe, that the world didn't end.

"I don't own you, Scully," I said: "That's not how this relationship works."

You own me, that's how it works. But I didn't say that.

"It just happened… I'm sorry," she said and I nodded. I believed her. I felt a profound sadness but to my surprise no jealousy. Whoever he was, he could never come between us. What I shared with her nobody could take away.

"I just want you to be happy," I said and I meant it. I really did.

"Thank you," she answered and came closer to give me a hug.

"I moved on, Mulder," she sighed while still holding me: "You really should do the same."

"Don't worry about me," I released her from our embrace to kiss her on the forehead. I stayed there for a few seconds, then moved down to her lips. Just a friendly, chaste kiss, with which I absolved her from our unspoken commitment.

Sometimes the only thing you can do for the woman you love is to let her go.


	30. Mark

"It's nice to finally be invited to your place," Mark said.

"I'm sorry," I sighed: "You know I have a child. His father takes him here often and him and I… It's complicated."

"You don't have to explain," he nodded: "I've been married two times. Have two daughters myself. I know how awkward these things can be."

"Well, I was never anywhere close to marriage, so…"

"You're too smart for it, Dana," he leaned close to me, cupping my face with his hands, desire pouring from his skin: "That's why I like you."

I closed my eyes and licked my lips, ready for his onslaught. I never initiated contact with him, and he liked it that way. He liked to dominate me and I liked to give up control, to be free from thinking, free from all the responsibilities and strength that ruled my daily life. In his arms I ceased to be Doctor Scully whose knowledge can save lives while her mistakes can cost one. With him I wasn't a responsible mother and partner who carried the weight of the world on her shoulders.

I was simply a woman. No more, no less. He didn't take me to fancy dinners and movies, nor did he promise me the moon and the stars. In turn I didn't have to promise anything either. I could just be.

He liked it rough, but he knew exactly what he was doing. My cries often came from pain rather than pleasure, but the end result was pretty amazing, often in the form of multiple orgasms.

First time it happened we were in the hospital cafeteria, discussing a patient.

"You are a passionate woman, Doctor Scully," his remark caught me unprepared and I blushed, hating myself for it.

"I don't want to offend you," he continued, watching me as carefully as a wild cat watches its prey: "If I'm crossing the line, just tell me, okay?"

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak, and he covered my hand with his. Good thing we were sitting, because I was sure at that moment that my legs wouldn't be able to handle me standing on them.

Pheromones, my brain explained to me.

Shut up, the rest of my body barked at the brain.

"Can I kiss you, Dana?" Mark asked.

"Not here," I whispered, terrified of his advances, of it happening in a public place with our colleagues around us, but most of all of my inability to say no.

He nodded and got up, asking me to follow him to his office and, as if I was hypnotized, I did. He closed the door behind us and offered me to sit while he retrieved some papers from the desk.

"What is this?" I asked when he handed them to me.

"My medical results," he explained: "To prove to you that I'm clean. I had a vasectomy as well, see for yourself. I also assure you that I'm as monogamous as they come."

"Why are you showing me this?" I was confused, alarmed even.

"Because I'm a busy man, Dana. I don't have time for games. I want you. I think my offer is fair. Think about it, then take it or leave it. No hard feelings."

"No," I shook my head: "This is ridiculous."

I placed the papers on the desk and walked out of the door, avoiding meeting his gaze.

I was back the very next day, without words, without explanation. He smiled gently and locked the door, then pointed towards the hospital examination bed with his head.

I followed his direction and slowly removed my uniform, not sure how to proceed. Did he want me to take off all of my clothes or just the necessary amount? What position did he expect me to assume? It was his office, his territory, his rules. I felt completely powerless under his authority and this helplessness aroused me as hell.

"All I ask is that you stay quiet," he said in a firm voice: "You don't need witnesses any more than I do."

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. I couldn't truly believe that I was standing there, letting him claim my body at our workplace, in the middle of the busy day. I half-expected Mulder to break in and pull Mark away from me, yelling at him to get the hell off of me. He didn't. Mulder was writing children books and watching cartoons with our son while another man gave me my first orgasm in over a decade. Staying quiet proved to be much more difficult than I thought.

"Was this satisfying for you?" Mark asked after we redressed.

"Yes," I said honestly, trying to maintain the professional attitude: "Thank you."

"Good," he nodded in contentment: "It was pleasurable for me as well. Come back tomorrow at five."

And I did.

After a week of hospital copulation, Mark invited me to his home where I became I regular guest. It was definitely more comfortable, he had lots of interesting toys and I didn't have to worry about being quiet anymore, but we would still occasionally do it in his office, just for the thrill and danger of being caught.

After Mulder found out about our relationship we decided to tell it to everybody else as well. We were officially a couple and sexual release made me much more relaxed and efficient in my everyday duties, as well as in dealing with other people. My endless fights with Mulder finally stopped and I became a much better mother to our son.

My relationship with Mark was by all means the most mature relationship in my life. We both knew exactly what we wanted from each other and we didn't expect anything more than we were willing to give. There was no romance involved, which is good, because I would have run away at the tiniest show of it. I could give him my body, but I couldn't give him my heart.

My heart still belonged to Mulder.


	31. Horny

I met Mark on Ahab's birthday party. Scully tried to postpone introducing us as much as possible, and I can't say I didn't agree, but I was growing more and more restless to get it over with.

"You should bring him to the party," I said simply.

"You're right," she agreed, adding: "Thank you."

I wanted to be adult about it. I really did. But there was something about Mark that didn't feel quite right. I didn't trust him. I kept my eye on him as much as I could without ignoring all the other guests.

"So," I asked him when I managed to get to him without Scully being around: "You are a doctor?"

"Yes," he nodded: "A gynecologist."

I nodded back at him, not knowing what else to say without sounding rude. A gynecologist?! Of all the men in the world, why did Scully have to choose the one who puts his hands in other women? Lots of other women! Daily! For a living!

Come to think about it, why did Scully have to find a man at all? She was never really into those kinds of activities. Except for beginning with the same letter, Scully and sex had nothing in common.

I know. I tried. Twice!

"Then you must be an expert on pleasing a woman," I finally said. Stupid.

Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

Mark laughed at my remark and I just faked a smile, whishing a NLO would return and take me back at that exact moment.

It didn't. Scully did. She was pleased to see the two of us "getting along" and Mark was so pleased to see her again, after almost full five minutes without her, that he grabbed her and tried to choke her with his tongue.

"Please," I said, not amused: "Not in front of children."

"You're right, Mulder," Mark laughed again, after releasing her mouth, but keeping his hand on the small of her back.

Her back.

My spot.

My woman.

His hand.

Scully blushed and apologized without looking at me. I walked away disgusted, embarrassed for her. If I stayed around her for just a second longer I would embarrass myself as well. She never looked sexier, with those swollen lips and shy lowered gaze. I wanted to punch Mark and steal her from him, then engage in a thing much more inappropriate for doing in front of children.

For the first time after my death, I had needs. It couldn't have come in the worse moment.

Why did it take a gynecologist to show me Scully's wild side? Why did I ignore it when she was still available, when I actually had a chance?

Why couldn't I ignore it now?

I tried to make myself busy, cleaning the barbecue, catching kids around the yard, telling them stories. My stories were popular amongst Ahab's friends, especially around Halloween when I was invited to countless parties. They thought nobody makes up scarier stories than Mr. Mulder, and they never believed me that every single detail in those was true.

Kids always make me feel better, but they couldn't help me with this particular thing. When even imagining Fohike in underwear didn't help with my situation, I decided to admit my defeat and search for release in the bathroom.

I entered the house in a bad moment, as Scully and Mark were just coming down the stairs, rearranging their clothes. My blood boiled at the sight and it took all the self discipline I had not to make a scene.

"Can I talk to you for a second?" I asked Scully as calmly as I could, at the same time trying to communicate to Mark with my eyes that he'd better get lost. He understood and excused himself: "I'll be in the yard."

"What is it?" Scully asked me after he left.

I grabbed her arm and winced from the electricity caused by touching her.

"Not in my bed," I told her seriously. Deathly seriously.

"Mulder, that is my room," she objected.

"Not anymore."

"What do you mean? I still come for sleepovers."

"Really? When was the last time?"

"I…" she couldn't remember. I could.

"When did you last sleep here?" I asked her again: "Because I moved to that room months ago and I never noticed you around!"

"Oh God," she gasped, covering her mouth with her hand: "Has it really been that long? I… I'm sorry, I didn't know. I didn't… Oh God, Mulder, I'm so sorry!"

"Never. Again. Scully," I said slowly, still holding her arm in a firm grip.

"No, I… I won't. I'm sorry. I'll change your sheets," she said, trying to escape my hold on her, but I wasn't ready to let go. She looked so tiny and fragile, I almost wanted to hug her and forget everything, forgive everything. Maybe I would, if she didn't smell so… used. Who was this woman and what did she do to my partner, my strong, independent, fierce little partner who would never engage in such activities on her son's birthday party? My Scully would never let any man control her like that!

But now, that same Scully was owned by Mark.

Now, I was owned by the same Mark.

I belonged to Scully, and Scully belonged to Mark, which meant Mark owned me as well. It's a simple logic, not even Ahab would have problems understanding it. There was nothing I could do about it, nothing at all.

"Don't touch my sheets, Scully!" I refused her offer: "Stay away from my bedroom! And don't you ever, and I mean ever, bring that man to my house again!"

I finally released her hand and walked away, not trusting myself to be capable of handling her tears that started to emerge. Her promises and apologize meant nothing to me. I locked myself in the bathroom and started to shake from all the emotions that I experienced in agonizing glory after my death. They all came back to me at that same moment and I cried and laughed and punched the wall all at the same time.

There was one new feeling as well, but I wasn't sure how to describe it. All I knew was that, despite what I told her, I desperately wanted Scully in my bed.

But without Mark.


	32. Family

I needed to get out of there as soon as possible, but I couldn't leave without saying goodbye to my son, not on his birthday.

"I'm sorry, mommy," Ahab said hugging me fiercely. It got me worried. Showing open affection towards his mom was not a popular thing amongst Ahab's friends, so something must have been very wrong for him to do it in front of everyone.

"What do you have to be sorry about?" I asked him.

"I'm sorry that you don't want to stay. I picked up all my toys, but my friends took them out, but I promise I will clean everything when they go home and…"

"Oh honey, it's your birthday! You can have a little mess on your birthday," I tried to assure him: "I am not mad at you for that."

"Then why can't you stay?" he pleaded: "Did dad make you mad?"

"No. No," I stroked his hair, not knowing what else to say. What I just did to his father was something that I never wanted him to know.

"It's my fault, Ahab," I finally whispered, trying to keep our exchange to ourselves. My mother was already looking suspiciously in our direction and I really didn't need her to intervene.

"I made a huge mistake and dad is very mad at me," I admitted to my son.

"I will talk to him, he will forgive you!" Ahab insisted.

Maybe he will, I thought. But how will I forgive myself?

Oh Mulder, why can't we do this right? For the sake of our son!

"I will talk to your father tomorrow and we will sort things out," I promised him: "But right now I have to go. Go play with your friends."

"Ok," he nodded, but he stayed in place: "Mom?"

"What is it, Ahab?"

"My birthday wish was that you come back home," he said shyly and run away.

I turned abruptly and walked fiercely towards Mark's car, hoping to get out of there faster than the tears come out of my eyes.

Oh Ahab! Why did you have to say that? Don't you know the birthday wish can't come true if you tell it to someone?

"Are you okay, Dana?" Mark asked me in the safety of his car.

"Just drive," I told him, wiping away the tears. I had no right to cry.

"My place or yours?" he inquired after driving in silence for a while.

"Both," I said sharply and he didn't object. We spent the rest of the journey in silence.

"I'm sorry," I apologized when we arrived to my place. What happened wasn't his fault and I had no right to take it on him. It was my mess and it was up to me to clean it. No self-pity, no placing blame. That's not the example I wanted to set for my son.

"I'm tired and I need to be alone tonight," I tried to explain: "There are some things I need to sort out…"

"I understand," he said, leaning down to kiss me: "Goodnight, Dana. See you tomorrow."

He looked like he had a great time at the party and I hated him for it. I really had to get away from him before I ruined another relationship in the same day.

Why couldn't he be more like Mulder?

Why couldn't Mulder be more like him?

I wasn't able to get much sleep, so I got up early and went back to Mulder's house, as I promised our son I would. I hoped to be there before the kid awakes, since it was the only way to have the opportunity to do what I dreaded doing: talk to his father.

Mulder was obviously not able to sleep as well, as I found him sitting on the porch, watching sunrise. As I got out of the car and walked towards him, his gaze was fixated to my car.

"He's not with me," I said, guessing who he was looking for.

Mulder sighed and removed earphones from his ears, looking at me like I just landed an UFO in his yard.

"What are you doing here, Scully?" he finally asked.

"I came to apologize."

"You already did."

"But you didn't forgive me."

"What does it matter if I did or didn't?"

"It matters to our son."

"Our son is fine, Scully."

"Are you?"

"Yeah. I'm fine too. We don't need you here."

"You don't mean that, Mulder."

"What does it matter if I do or don't?"

"Damn it, Mulder! What do you want? Do you want me to break up with Mark? Is that it? Would that make you happy?"

"What if I said yes? Would you really leave him?"

"Yes. Yes, I would."

"Why?"

"Because my family comes first. I stayed up all night weighing my priorities and I'm clear about what they are. I'm not gonna risk losing Ahab again… Or you…"

"I'm not a part of your family, Scully."

"Yes. You are. You are a father of my child, Mulder. You will always be my family."

"What about Mark?"

"What about him?"

"Do you love him?"

"I… like him. A lot."

"Does he make you happy?"

"Yeah… He does."

"So I guess you want to keep him, too?" Mulder grinned at me playfully, and I smiled from relief.

"I was gonna ask my best friend for advice," I replied, keeping the light tone that our conversation magically took.

"Your best friend approves," Mulder winked, motioning for me to take a seat next to him. I accepted and leaned gratefully into his warm embrace. When Ahab woke up he found us still snuggled at the porch bench, as if we were Siamese twins who couldn't, even surgically, be separated.

"You came back!" my son exclaimed happily.

"Of course I did," I smiled at him: "I promised, didn't I?"

He forced his way between us and hugged me fiercely: "I love you mom!"

"I love you too, darling," I kissed the top of his hair.

"What about dad?" There was a hint of worry in his voice.

"I love him, too," I assured him.

"Always?" he still wasn't completely convinced.

"Always."

"Good! Can we go play with my new toys now?"


	33. Bad cop

I watched Scully call her hospital and request a day off to spend it with us. I watched her answer the call from Mark telling him that she has other plans and that she'll see him tomorrow. I watched her teach Ahab how to play baseball while I made lunch for us.

"What did I tell you, Ahab?" she laughed at our uncoordinated son: "Hips BEFORE hands!"

"But Mom! What ARE hips?" he cried in frustration. Son of a doctor who doesn't know his body parts! Son of mine who doesn't know how to hit a ball! Oh, Scully, we have so much work to do with this kid! Maybe you should start with physiology and leave the bat handling to me? It was my gift to him after all, just like it once was my gift to you…

We were going to be fine. I was determined to make it work, whatever it took. If I wasn't expected to hang out with Mark, if Scully could keep him in private, I guessed I could learn to live with the knowledge of his existence. I couldn't demand of her to leave him, even though, actually precisely because, she offered to.

She had a right to be happy and I had no right to take it from her.

Mark was a damn lucky son of a bitch! He'd better prove worthy of her!

"Lunch is ready!" I called my family and they came inside laughing. Scully was impressed to see that I finally learned how to make salads. Ahab, on the other hand, was not.

"I don't like it," the kid objected.

"If you finish your salad we can eat the cake leftovers afterwards," Scully said diplomatically.

"Ok," he agreed unenthusiastically, but his mind was clearly far away from his lunch as he rearranged it on the plate.

"Daddy, how does sex feel?" he asked suddenly. Oh boy! Why don't you ask your mother, son, she is the one actually doing it.

"What did you hear about sex?" Scully asked him, blushing. I grinned, relieved. If she was going to take over this conversation and allow me to sit back and observe, it might actually be a fun experience.

Scully and I gaped in surprise while our son explained what he knew about procreation act. Man, I could actually learn something from him! One thing he didn't know how to explain, though.

"Why would anyone want to do it?" he asked seriously.

"It's one of those things only grown-ups understand," Scully explained.

"I will never grow up!" he declared.

"I wish you never would," I said and immediately wanted to bite off my tongue. Samantha never did grow up. How fun was that for you, useless big brother?

Luckily for us, Ahab lost the interest in the subject before we had to admit the lack of sex in his conception. That part was hard to explain even to grown-ups, like Skinner or Scully's mother, and I don't even want to know how it played with her brother! Just like Ahab, they all knew how, and just like him they couldn't understand why.

I wanted to home school him, to keep him ignorant and innocent as long as possible, but Scully was strongly against it.

"You see now why school isn't good for him?" I teased her when Ahab went to the bathroom. She just shrugged, changing the subject: "When are you going to finish the next chapter?"

"I'm working on it. I've been kinda busy."

"Busy with what?"

"Raising your child," I teased her: "I think I'm going to need an increase in your child support checks, by the way."

That didn't make her smile, as I thought it would. She looked almost sad, but I didn't have time to examine her expression further since Ahab returned at that moment.

"Ok, now, where is the cake?" he asked enthusiastically.

"I'll get it," Scully said getting up, but I stopped her: "No, he didn't finish his salad yet."

"But daaad! You didn't finish yours either!"

"And I'm not getting the cake either!"

"I guess I will have to eat it all by myself," Scully laughed.

"No, mom, don't! I will eat this in a second," Ahab panicked, quickly putting the loaded fork in his mouth.

"Slow down, I can wait," Scully laughed again, gently squeezing my shoulder. I looked at her and she gave me a grateful smile. I learned to be a bad cop. Finally!

Oh, the things we do for love!


	34. The proposal

My relationship with Dana was pure and simple. We enjoyed each other with passion and respect, but without drama and jealousy. She was a dream come true and three years spent with her were the best years of my life, hopefully just marking a beginning of the rest of my life.

I made a pact with myself never to marry again. But that was before I met Dana.

"Mark!" she was surprised: "Are you asking me on a date?"

That's exactly what I was doing. I'm a practical man and romance isn't my thing, but when I'm doing it I want to do it right.

That being said, I didn't get on my knees and propose in the middle of a restaurant or some nonsense like that. I did take her to a fancy dinner, though, followed by a pleasant walk by the river.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you are going to ask me to marry you," Dana joked.

"What if I was?" I asked.

"I wouldn't take your last name, that's for sure!"

"I know. Mulder would go crazy if he had to start calling you Hooker," I smiled. None of my wives took my last name and I wasn't offended by that. I didn't even pass it on to my daughters.

"I was thinking about it, though," she was suddenly serious.

"And?" I wondered.

"And the answer is yes."

Talking of Mulder, he would get crazy anyway. The man was obviously in love with her, though too dumb to do anything about it. Well, more for me! She talked about him a lot, but I barely ever saw him. He never forgave me for having sex in his house and I didn't mind it a bit. I preferred to spend my time with adults, rather than childish crackpots. It's not just my biased opinion – he wrote a book about his search for aliens to prove his insanity.

Mulder's son is not much better than him, though I would never admit it to Dana. The spoiled brat recently run away from home and stayed with us for almost a week! Luckily, he wasn't used to civilized living so he crawled back to his father's cave.

"I didn't buy you a ring," I told Dana: "But if you want one then you should choose it by yourself."

"I have all I ever wanted," she responded honestly and I kissed her gratefully. She tasted like salmon and cherries and I cherished every bite of her.

"I did buy a very expensive bottle of wine," I told her: "In case we have something to celebrate."

"Since when do you drink?"

"Only when I get engaged."

We went home, to a home now! Our home. We lived together for almost a year, since it was much more practical than going back and forth from opposite sides of the city. Being it originally my home made Mulder and Ahab finally learn to announce themselves before coming for a visit. Luckily, it wasn't very often, they all preferred to meet at other places and I never asked where.

Neither Dana or I drink often, so one bottle of wine was enough to get us slightly drunk and loosen her inhibition. She started to make moves towards me, which she never did before, not once since we got together. I didn't like it, so I took over and she melted under my touch like a snow girl.

It was a damn fine wine. It tasted even better on Dana's lips and I was a very thirsty man. Like a bottomless pit, I could never have enough of her.

"Oh Dana!" I called her name as I moved inside her, approaching our mutual ecstasy.

"Oh Fooox!" she moaned definitely-not-my name.

Damn wine!


	35. Friend in need

I was just about to go to sleep when I heard a knock on the door. I opened them to see Scully looking upset and holding a travel bag.

"Can I stay over?" she asked.

"Sure," I took her bag and followed her to the living room. So much for trying to get a decent sleep for a change.

"What happened?" I asked her.

"I left him," she said, her voice breaking: "I'm sorry, but I had nowhere else to go."

Ok, I didn't see that one coming… I sat next to her and watched her curiously. It wasn't April's Fool day or my birthday, so this wasn't a prank nor a present.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I offered, trying not to beg. I had to know! If he did something to her, he would be a dead man soon! If he didn't do anything, well, he still deserved what he got!

"No. Yes. I don't know…" she buried her head in her hands.

"What happened?" I asked again.

She raised her head but didn't look at me when she blurted: "He wanted me to sleep with you."

Just that? I was relieved. He'll live. Wait, what?

Whoa, whoa, whoa! What did she just say?

"Why…" I heard myself formulating a sentence: "…don't you… start from beginning?"

"Ok," she sighed: "We got engaged."

I was honestly confused. Since when did engagement require sleeping with your best friend? I guess I've definitely been out of dating business for too long, the rules of the game have gone to hell.

Hell! What the hell!? She got engaged to him?!

"We went home and drunk some wine," she continued.

Oh god, Scully and alcohol! Last time that happened she got a tattoo and a personal X file. Ok, maybe it wasn't the last time. She was probably drunk as well when she decided to procreate with my remains.

I waited patiently for the rest of the story, but it wasn't coming. Maybe I did go to sleep early, after all. Maybe this was just a dream. There is a valid reason I dislike sleeping, you know.

"Scully?" I finally dared to ask. Maybe this was her dream and not mine. Maybe I'm not really here and this is not happening at all.

Maybe I just miss the X files too much.

"Ok, Mulder, don't take this the wrong way, but," she hesitated: "I… He says I called your name during… You know…"

I took a deep breath, trying my best not to take her admission the wrong way, but fuck! What was possibly the RIGHT way to take this?

"You called my name?" I asked in the calmest voice I could manage. Should I be honored? Should I feel insulted?

"No, Mulder!" she objected, a little too fast, a bit too loud: "That's what he HEARD, not necessarily what I said!"

"What DID you say?" Did I really want to know?

"I don't know, Mulder, I wasn't thinking, I was… Oh god!" her head returned to the safety refuge of her hands.

"Well, I guess Mulder could sound a bit like Mark…" I tried to comfort her. Of course he heard her wrong! She wouldn't really call my name… Would she? Why? I never did manage to give her any pleasure in that area.

"It wasn't Mulder," she said through her hands: "It was Fox."

Ok, Fox definitely doesn't sound anything like Mark. But what the hell?

"Well, that's something I as well wouldn't be pleased to hear while I'm having sex," I couldn't help but laugh. She finally raised her head and chuckled, even though blushing from embarrassment.

"I guess that explains your celibacy, Mulder," she replied.

I guess I asked for it.

"You know, Scully, if his answer was 'fuck Fox' I don't think he meant it literary."

"Enough Mulder. This is not funny."

I opened my mouth to reply, but decided against it. Instead I pondered for a second on her situation. She got engaged, had sex with her newly declared fiancée, called my name during it and he told her to sleep with me. Then she left him and came to me. If that's not funny, I don't know what is.

Did she call my name while fucking Ed as well? Is that why he tried to burn her?

My Scully sure is a busy woman. I give her that.

Suddenly, I got it. It made sense. He wanted her to get it out of her system before committing to him. He allowed her to have a taste of me in order to dissolve any fantasy she might have about being with me, so that she could fully appreciate what's waiting for her at home. Brilliant.

For the first time I felt a respect for the man.

For the first time as well, I pitied him.

After everything we've been through, there was no way Scully or myself could ever fully detoxify from each other. We were terminally metastasized into each other. Too bad Mark is a gynecologist, maybe oncologist could have a chance of understanding it.

"Is that what you want?" I asked her seriously after a long silence: "Is that why you came here?"

"No, of course not!" she insisted: "That's why I left him! I can't marry a man who is ready to share me like that!"

Or is it your fear of commitment, Scully?

"He meant well," I sighed: "Give him a chance to explain. If you truly love him, you can work this out."

"What if… What if I don't?"

"Then all I can say is… Welcome home!"


	36. Too young to understand

I woke up to the smell of pancakes. It's a trick my dad uses to get me out of the bed: he makes pancakes or waffles or cookies, then opens my bedroom door to let the smell come in and raise my hunger level above my sleepiness. Still half-sleeping, I got up and walked to the kitchen, ready to stuff my mouth with food, but dad stopped me.

"Get dressed first," he told me: "Then call your mother."

"But why?" I complained.

"I'd like her to join us for breakfast."

"Not that. Why do I have to get dressed?"

"So that she doesn't call a social service when she sees you," dad laughed. I didn't find that funny, but I was too tired to argue with him so I went back to my room and looked for clothes. Mom says I'm not a morning person, just like her, but dad doesn't understand it, he always asks me to do so much work in the mornings.

"Dad," I said when I returned to the kitchen with the phone: "Can we invite mom to lunch instead? I'm hungry, I can't wait until she gets here."

"Just trust me Ahab," he winked: "Call her."

I pressed the call button and waited. The ringing came from the living room.

"She's here?" I asked dad and he just smiled. I definitely wasn't sleepy anymore as I run to the living room and jumped on the couch to hug my mom.

"What's happening?" she asked me, without opening her eyes.

"Dad made pancakes!" I informed her.

"It's early Ahab," she pulled me under the blanket with her: "Go back to sleep."

"But mom! Pancakes!" I got up again and tried to pull her up as well.

"And some coffee," dad smiled from the door, holding the smoking cup.

"Help me, dad!" I asked him: "She's heavy!"

"Go away!" mom complained: "Both of you."

"Get the coffee," dad handed me the cup and went to mom. He bent over her, maybe to kiss her or whisper to her ear and she told him that he needs to shave. Finally, she got up, took the coffee from me without words and walked to the kitchen.

"How come she doesn't have to dress first?" I asked dad.

"Because no social service worker would want to take her from me," he laughed.

I don't understand my father's jokes. Sometimes he jokes that someone's going to come and take me away from him. Other times, he fears the same thing. It's like losing me is all he can think about.

I know that's what happened to his sister. She was playing with my dad and bad people came and took her away. My dad says his memories about that day are confusing and he's not sure how it really happened. Mom told me it won't happen again because she and dad worked hard to bring the bad people to justice. Dad says that there is no justice and that I'm too young to understand. I hate when he treats me like a baby!

"You will always be my baby," he says and I really, really don't like it.

My dad says I was his last chance to have a child, because bad people did something bad to him. He asked mom to be my mom and she did, but she had to think about it a lot before she agreed. By then my dad died, but not for real because he came back from the dead, just like Jesus.

"No, not like Jesus," my mom says: "But it was still a miracle."

"How, then?"

"You are too young to understand."

"But mom!"

"Oh son, even I don't understand it completely."

When mom was pregnant with me bad people shot her and she almost died. I also almost died but I didn't and dad took care of me because mom was too sick. I don't remember any of it, but I'm afraid that bad people could come again and hurt my parents. I love my parents more than anything in the world and I don't want anything bad to happen to them.

"Don't worry William," Skinner tells me: "They can take care of themselves. And they have me. I would die to protect them."

But I don't want Skinner to die!

"Nobody's going to die," my grandma tells me.

But grandpa Ahab died. My sister Emily died. My aunts Melissa and Samantha died. I don't tell it to grandma anymore because it makes her sad and I don't want to make her sad. I just don't want anybody else to die. Not even Mark, and I really don't like Mark.

Speaking of Mark, social service didn't come to get mom, but he did. Mom was in the shower so I opened the door.

"Hi," Mark said: "Is your mom here?"

Before I could answer dad came behind me and said: "She doesn't want to see you."

"Why don't we let her decide?" Mark asked

"She can't come," I tried to explain: "She's having a shower."

"Why don't you go back to your room?" Mark said to me and I didn't object because I really didn't want to talk to him. I turned to walk away, but dad stopped me.

"My son stays here," he was very serious: "You are not permitted to order him around in his own house."

"Listen, Fox…"

"Oh, you learned my name? I heard as much!"

"She told you?"

"Yeah doc, she did. Just like she told you to leave her alone. So why are you here?"

"She's not answering my calls."

"And what does that tell you?"

"Mark?" mom came as well, with wet hair, wearing dad's bathrobe: "What are you doing here?"

"We need to talk," Mark told her.

"We talked long enough," mom told him: "I need some space. I need time. To sort things out."

"I can understand that, Dana, but why here? Of all the places you could have gone to, why here?"

"My son is here! Where else should I go?"

"Your son or your lover? Tell me honestly. I need to know."

"Damn it, Mark! You told me to go to him, remember?"

"That was a mistake. And I didn't mean MOVE IN with him!"

"Enough," dad spoke again: "You won't solve anything while you are both upset. Go home Mark, calm down, sleep it over, and you can talk when you're both ready."

"Don't worry, Mulder, I'm leaving. But she's coming with me."

"No, Mark. I'll stay here."

"In that case, I will need your keys."

"Mark, please!"

"I'm serious, Dana, come with me now or don't bother coming at all."

"I'm sorry, Mark. I can't."

"Fine. You've made your bed, Dana. I'll send your stuff here. You can even keep the keys – I'll change the lock!"

Mark went to his car and mom went back to the bathroom. I think she was crying. Dad just sighed and went to the kitchen, not paying attention to me anymore. I wanted to ask him what mom and Mark argued about, but I already knew the answer.

I was too young to understand!

At that moment, it didn't matter. I was old enough to understand the most important thing: mom left Mark to stay with us!


	37. Everything

I was staring at the boxes on Mulder's porch, contemplating my life's failures.

One day I had everything: a fulfilling career, a wonderful child and amazing soon-to-be husband. The next day I was homeless and single, with my relationship falling apart just hours after engagement. The worst part was: I had no idea why. Mark was never a jealous type, but I guess finding me wearing nothing but a bathrobe in a house of a man whose name I accidentally called during our love-making was too much even for him.

"Oh god, Mulder, what have I done?" I turned to my friend.

"You deserve better than this, Scully," he tried to comfort me.

"But I don't have anything better, do I?"

"This is not your fault."

"How EXACTLY is this not my fault, Mulder? Please explain it to me, because I'm not getting it!"

"It's my fault."

"Damn it, Mulder! Not everything is about you! This is MY life!"

"Your LIFE has just been delivered to my front door, so it kind of is my deal. I couldn't let you out on the street."

"Are you trying to say you wish you did?"

"I should have. "

"God, Mulder… Is that what you want? You want me to leave?"

"No. That's what he wanted. You chose me over him. Don't you get it? He would forgive you if you slept with me, but he won't forgive you being close to me."

"So the only way to get him back is to break the friendship with you?" I must have been severely stressed out, because Mulder's words actually made some sense to me.

"I'm sorry, Scully," he looked sad, even hurt. What the hell did he have to be hurt about?

"Damn it, Mulder! Why does everything have to revolve around you? Ever since I joined the FBI you dominated every aspect of my life! My career revolved around your quest, I followed you like a puppy around the fucking world, risked my life for you, lied for you, I gave my only child to you! But it wasn't enough! It's never enough! I can't even get a damn husband because of you!"

Mulder was just standing there, not responding to my breakdown, taking my words silently like a good old martyr that he likes to play. It only made me more furious. I needed someone to blame for my mistakes and if he wanted to take the blame, I wasn't going to stop him. Not this time!

"I hate you!" I yelled at him and started to hit him in the chest with my fists, just to get a fucking reaction. I needed him to yell back at me, I needed a fight that Mark denied me, but Mulder just stood there, taking my blows like they hurt less than a mosquito bite. He didn't try to stop me in any way, he was just there like he always is, no matter what.

My constant. My touchstone.

My weakness. My Achilles heel.

My everything.

Forever.

"Why?" I lowered my head on his chest, finally breaking into tears: "Why can't I leave you?"

He wrapped his arms around me, but I shook them off instantly. I walked past him to the house, searched for my car keys and went back outside without looking at him again. He didn't try to stop me when I entered the car and drove off. I didn't know where I was going, I just knew I had to get out of there. I had to be my own person. Not Mulder's Scully. Not Mark's Dana. Not even Ahab's mom.

I had to be me. I had to find myself.

I drove without a destination until I run out of gas. It was only then that I noticed how I forgot to take my wallet and my cell phone. I had no money, no gas, no place to go. No close friends, no mother since she moved in with Bill few years ago. I couldn't even go back to Mulder, as it was way too far of a journey to do on foot.

So I laughed. It was only fitting to be lost on the outside as much as inside.


	38. A place to go

I got up with a gun in my hand. Who would come unannounced in the middle of the night? Mulder?

I was hoping it was Mulder. I wasn't in the mood for killing an intruder any more than I wished to be killed by one.

"Who is it?" I asked in vain. There was no answer. Maybe I dreamt it. I sighed, ready to go back to bed, but I decided to open the door first, just in case, or rather just to prove to my subconscious mind that there is nobody in front of them.

My subconscious mind laughed in my face as I found a small, shaky figure. She was barefoot, which I wouldn't have noticed if she wasn't holding her shoes in her hand.

Here we go again! You can close the X files, but you can't escape them!

"What happened to your shoes?" I asked her, since I was too sleepy to remember my good manners and invite her inside.

"They gave me blisters so I had to take them off," she explained: "I'm sorry if I woke you. I need to borrow some money."

Yawning, I stepped aside: "Get in, Scully!"

"Thank you, sir."

I've been her friend for more years then her boss, but she still calls me sir.

"You look like you could use a drink," I offered.

"A tea would be nice."

"That's not what I had in mind," I was taking out a bottle of vodka.

"No thank you. Alcohol is what got me in this mess in the first place," she refused, but took the cup anyway and emptied it in the record time. I refilled it without commenting.

I didn't ask. If she wanted she would tell me herself. I sat on the couch with her and we drunk in silence, with my cat Mitch keeping us company.

By the time the phone started to ring, she was already drooling on my new couch pillow. You don't get to watch Scully sleep without receiving a call from Mulder.

"Scully is missing," he informed me with a panic in his voice.

"She's not missing, Mulder," I assured him: "She's sleeping on my couch."

"Wh…? How did she get there?"

I wish I knew that myself, buddy!

"Walking, apparently," I answered: "What the hell happened to her?"

"She broke up with Mark," he sighed: "Or Mark broke up with her. I'm not sure which anymore. Anyway, he kicked her out of house and sent all her belongings to my place."

I rubbed my forehead, feeling a huge migraine coming.

"I… She left upset," Mulder kept talking: "I got worried when I realized that she didn't take her cell phone or her wallet. And when she didn't come back…"

Please Mulder, just shut the hell up before my head explodes!

"It's late Mulder. Come here in the morning, after you send William to school, and work it out with her."

"I don't think she… wants to see me."

"It's an order, Mulder."

"Yes, sir."

I checked up on Scully before going to bed and it looked like she was going to live through the night, which is more than I could have said for my pillow. I covered her with a blanket, being it the only thing I was able to come up with to do for her.

She didn't sleep for long, though. I woke up during the night to find her standing at my bedroom door and watching me.

"What is it, Scully?" I asked her while turning on the light.

"I'm sorry I fell asleep. I didn't mean to…"

"It's fine. Go back to sleep."

"I just need to borrow some money to…"

"You need to rest. Go to sleep."

But she didn't. She sat on the bed next to me, telling me that she doesn't want to be alone tonight. How she was always alone. How Mark will never forgive her, and neither will Mulder for that matter. How she can't go back to work and face Mark, and she can't go back to Ahab and face Mulder and she doesn't know why but she deserved nothing better. If I just gave her enough money for a hotel room and a few meals and go to Mulder to get her wallet, if I just sent her credit card to that hotel room and I can keep all her stuff because she doesn't want any of it any more…

You know, the usual stuff drunk people talk about. She must have finished that bottle while I was sleeping.

Maybe, she finally realized, maybe if she just went to a bar, someone might buy her a drink and maybe even take her home with him, then she won't need my bloody money and she won't sleep on another couch again. She doesn't want to be alone tonight.

Man, she had it bad! In the end I pulled her in bed with me, as it seemed to be the only way to keep her from going out in search of a one night stand. I didn't have much choice since she made it clear that couch was not an option. She wrapped her arms around my neck gratefully and begged me not to leave her. I stroked her back reassuringly, gathering all my strength to resist taking advantage of her. Her wild, sweaty smell was intoxicating.

How is it possible that she didn't realize the effect she had on men? How come she was never aware that Mulder starts to boil when Mark is around, or just mentioned in a conversation. How could she have lived with Mark for months without noticing that Mulder makes him turn green? Did she really think that arrangement could have lasted?

How the hell did she think I can hold her like a brother? How the hell did I manage to last until the morning without crossing that line? And why the hell Mulder refused to believe that I did when he found us?

Those two dedicated their lives to finding the truth, but couldn't recognize it when it danced in front of their noses!

So I had to pay.

Why the hell did I give Mulder my spare key?


	39. Skinner's bed

I guess one of man's biggest fears is finding his wife in bed with his boss.

Or maybe it's just my fear. I didn't know I have it until it happened to me.

Ok, technically she is not my wife any more than he is my boss. Still, close enough. Too close.

"This isn't what it looks like," Skinner delivered the ultimate lie.

Gee, how would it look like if it was what it looked like?

"Mulder," Scully insisted: "We didn't!" Then she turned to Skinner, looking confused: "Did we?"

"You don't even remember?" he stared at her in disbelief: "Well… I wish I could say the same…"

"Whatever I did, I'm truly sorry…"

"Save it, Scully," Skinner interrupted her: "I don't have time for this. I'm late for work. You two work it out. Or kill each other. I don't care."

With those words he walked out of room and we soon heard a shower running.

"I… um… I brought you your purse and… um… some clothes," I said without looking at her. My mouth was so dry that words had a trouble coming out of them.

"I know I owe you an apology, Mulder," she said warily: "But I'm not ready for it yet."

"That's, um, that's fine," I shrugged, not knowing what else to say or whether to stay or leave. I didn't even know which I would prefer. It was all pointless. Whatever happened, or didn't happen, I couldn't get the image of Scully and Skinner in bed together. As a good friend of both, I should have been happy for them, but I was merely desperate.

"Am I holding you back, Mulder?" Scully broke the silence after a while, sounding less mean than before which caused me to sigh from relief.

"What do you mean?" I was confused.

"I mean… Do I come between you and other women, like… you did between Mark and me?"

"There are no other women, Scully," I admitted, but she already knew that anyway.

"Is it because of me?"

Damn it! How do I answer that?

"Yes. No! Well, not in the way you are implying."

"You're gonna have to qualify that further, Mulder," she ordered.

"I already told you, Scully, you will always stay my last."

At that moment Skinner came back, wearing nothing but a towel.

"I just came to get my clothes, then I'm leaving," he explained: "Gun is in the drawer, knifes are in the kitchen, in case you fail to find a common language. Scully, if you want to stay here for a while, you are welcomed, but use a damn shower, please."

He left without waiting for a response, probably aware that his words weren't really reaching us.

"I can't believe you remember that!" Scully exclaimed: "I totally forgot it."

"I didn't."

"You should! I never asked you for anything like that!"

"I know."

"Mulder, that was YEARS ago!"

"I know."

"You have to move on with your life!"

"I'm happy with my life as it is, Scully."

"Are you waiting for me to get back to you? Is that what this is about? Are you happy that Mark kicked me out? Was that your plan all along?"

"Damn it, Scully! What difference does it make? You made it clear that you don't want me in your life."

"I didn't mean that…" she sighed.

"What the hell do you want from me?"

"I don't KNOW what I want!"

"So help me god, but sometimes I just wish to spank you!"

"Maybe you should," she lowered her voice along with her eyes. It sounded sincere, almost like a plea. I gaped at her, at loss of words for a few moments. Then I started to laugh.

"Does that turn you on, doc? Is that what Mark did?"

"Don't make fun of me, Mulder! If done properly, it can be a very… sensual experience." She proceeded with some medical explanations, which only made me laugh harder. Which, in turn, only made her angrier.

"Shut up!" she got up from bed and slapped me. It worked well against my laughter, but it wasn't so pleasurable for my ego. I grabbed her wrist, refusing to let her assault me again. I took enough bullshit the day before.

I couldn't resist, so I kissed her. She almost bit my tongue off!

"Damn it!" I cursed, tasting the blood in my mouth. I turned around, wanting to go to the bathroom and wash up, but her voice stopped me.

"Don't you dare walk away from me now!"

"Like you keep walking away from me, Scully?"

Her anger seemed to have no end. It reminded me of the worst period in my life, when I wronged her in a way I can never repair. The memory filled my eyes with tears and I concentrated on not letting them out. Some wounds never heal.

"I'm sorry," I said, sad and contrite.

"Don't apologize, Mulder, fight with me!"

"Why?"

"Because it always makes me feel alive! I need to feel alive," she begged.

"It won't bring him back, Scully. Mark is gone, you have to accept it."

"What about you?"

"I'm still here. I belong to you."

"Since when?"

"Since the first time you walked into my office."

"Oh come on, Mulder!"

"I can't explain it, Scully. It just is."

"Why are you telling me this? Why now?"

"Because I've got nothing to lose. It's all gone to hell anyway."

"I can't believe this!"

"You need proof?" I grabbed her and kissed her again, being careful not to use my tongue this time.

"Fuck you, Fox!" she tried to push me away, but I didn't let her.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" I grinned at her.

"Yes," she gasped, still trying to escape my embrace. I pushed her on the bed and pinned her with my body, kissing her neck to keep away from her teeth. She fought me like a wild animal and begged me to tame her simultaneously.

"Don't stop!" she moaned, at the same time scratching me furiously. I had to grab her wrists to protect myself, and the more I immobilized her, the fastest she panted underneath me.

I couldn't believe she enjoyed this. I couldn't believe I enjoyed it. I never thought I could be rough with a woman, any woman, let alone Scully. She didn't give me much choice, though. What I did was merely a self defense.

"Is that the best you can do, Fox?" she teased me. The sound of my name on her lips got my blood boiling. I wanted to take off her clothes, but I barely managed to pull down her pants. She fought me with all she had, and man was she strong!

"That! Belongs to! Mark! Fox!"

"Not! Any! More!"

"You are trespassing!"

"Good! I hate him, Dana!"

"How! Much! Do! You! Hate! Him!"

"Thiii… This! Much!"

"Can you! Hate him! Harder!"

It was wild, animalistic, primal. At the same time, it was divine. She came hard and so did I. This time the Earth did shake, and man it shook long and hard!

"Thank you, Mulder," she said underneath all my dead weight. Mulder. I was back, apparently, and it felt good, but I already missed Fox. It never felt better to be called Fox.

"Skinner is going to kill us," I noticed while rolling off of her. There were traces of my blood on his sheets, amongst other… substances. I hoped he wasn't coming home soon, as he probably wouldn't appreciate the sight of Scully and me lying half-naked on his bed, catching our breaths.

"I guess now you are my last as well," my blunt little lover stated the obvious.

"So now we are both fucked," I assumed.

"That we are," she agreed, moving closer to lay her head on my chest. I froze for a second, but I began to relax when I realized that she's not planning to bite me again.

"I don't hate you, Mulder," she said with a soft kiss to my nipple: "I never could. I'm sorry I said that."

"It's okay, Scully," I assured her, wrapping my arm around her shoulders: "I love you too."

There was an awkward silence before she finally responded: "Oh brother!"

Why does she ALWAYS say that?


	40. A couple

"Dad, what happened to you?" Ahab asked Mulder when we came to pick him up at school.

"I got into a fight," Mulder smiled.

"Cool! Did you win?"

"Of course I won!" Mulder winked at me as he said that and I wanted to die from embarrassment. What have I done? I forced him into domination, and his swollen lip was the least of a problem with that. I practically mentally raped him.

"Don't beat yourself up, Scully," Mulder whispered to me after Ahab got into the car: "I needed that as much as you did."

I just squeezed his hand and hurried to the passenger seat.

"Is that a hickey, mom?" Ahab asked me from the back seat and I almost got out of the car again. I wanted to run as far away from my observant boy as possible, as well as from his father who marked me and failed to warn me about it, letting me instead wear it in the open for the whole world to see.

"Um, yes," I admitted, not willing to lie to my son.

"So you are back together with Mark?" he assumed, sounding disappointed. I thought hard about what to answer, but nothing useful came to mind. I looked at Mulder for help, but he just stared at the road, with a huge grin on his face. He looked happy. I realized I felt happy as well. There was a sense of peace between us and all around us. Why hide it from the person who was part of us?

Because nobody wants to know about their parents sexual life, that's why!

"No. Your father did this," I said anyway, because we don't lie to our son.

"You and dad made out?"

"Yes," I smiled, flooding with relief. Making out sounded so innocent compared to what we actually did. Yet, it wasn't a lie, not even close!

"Is dad your boyfriend now?" Ahab was getting really excited. Mulder chuckled and finally looked at me: "Am I, Scully?" Despite the lightness of the conversation, his question was serious. I could recognize hope in his voice, and a bit of fear as well.

"Yes," I said, unable to come up with more words than that. Not that it was needed. Mulder placed his hand on my leg and I covered it with mine. I was his, there was no doubt about it. He fought for me and he won. I made him fight for me with me, as he never did with Mark. I dared him to posses me, to claim me, deeper, faster, harder. He didn't stop even when I started to talk about Mark. I didn't hide my thoughts about my ex and he in turn didn't hide his feelings for the man. We let Fox and Dana discuss what we couldn't as Mulder and Scully, while he fucked Mark out of my system.

Mulder won and I never felt better losing. I fought him just to feel his strength, knowing very well that it was a battle I couldn't win. He was a man, after all, even though I am prone to forgetting it. My man, in ways Mark could never be. I was a bit scared of his lack of skill and experience, but I trusted him with my body the same way I trusted him with my life: blindly and unconditionally.

I traded mind blowing sex with Mark for dysfunctional love making with Mulder, betraying my rational mind once again, and now our son pronounced us boyfriend and girlfriend, like we were a teenage couple. I guess, on the emotional level, that's exactly where we were.

I let Mulder take me back to his remote place, where all my stuff and my heart were, anyway. First thing I had to do when we got there was to repair the damage, at least what was reparable. I found some ice and pressed it on his lip. It certainly didn't look like he was beaten to death, but judging by his omnipresent grin you'd think he did die and went straight to heaven.

"I don't know what's gotten into me today, Mulder," I sighed.

"I think I did," he grinned even wider. I smiled, but I was worried and ashamed to death.

"Does it hurt?" I asked him.

"Barely," he assured me: "I want to believe I deserved it, Scully. Both the punishment and the reward."

"I think I deserve a spanking."

"Don't even think about it! I'm not going there," he teased me.

"And where ARE we going Mulder?"

"Well, for a start, we are going to move you to my bedroom."

"Where will you sleep?"

"Right there, with you."

"Mulder, I can't. I'm too sore."

"Aren't you a kinky one, Scully? I meant just sleeping. Literary. Nothing more."

His words almost brought a panic attack in me. Was it the fear of commitment my therapist kept hinting that I had? But I just ended one relationship, the last thing I should do was to rush into another one. This couldn't possibly end up well. What future do we have if we build it on the ruins of my failed engagement?

On the other hand, what right did I have to deny Mulder what was his? Or to keep neglecting what was mine?


	41. Onions

I wasn't going to take Scully for granted. Not this time. If something good came from her relationship with Mark, it's that I learned to appreciate her. Ahab and I both learned, so when she came back to us, we treated her like a queen.

What did she want? What did she need? It wasn't easy to communicate those things with her, so I observed her. I took notes. I experimented. Peas or potatoes in a soup? Blue or green curtains? Top or bottom position?

"I know what you're doing, Mulder, and it's not going to work," she smiled when I followed her around the house: "I won't let you figure me out."

"I just want to know what makes you happy," I told her while she cut onions on the kitchen counter. I wrapped my arms around her from the back and kissed her ear. She liked that, and so did Ahab. If it was up to him, we would never pull apart from each other.

"YOU do," she turned her head to kiss me and I held her tighter against me.

"So those are happy tears?" I smiled.

"Mulder, I'm cutting onions!" she broke into real tears and I just held her silently, letting her go through whatever it was she was going through. It was the only way she'd let me be there for her, the only way she'd show me her pain. Was she crying for Mark, for someone else, or something else, I could only guess. She didn't talk, but onions did. We both knew it, and we both played that game: whenever she needed me she would go for a cutting board, early in the morning, in the middle of the night, it hardly mattered.

Onions were just one of the many things I picked up on the way. She wanted to be in charge of the household, but she wanted me to take control in bed. Her ideal quota was about three times a week but we were lucky if it went smoothly even one of those times. I suggested we find a sexual therapist and she laughed so hard that she almost choked.

"Oh Mulder, why don't we ask Skinner if we could use his bed instead? That seemed to have worked!"

"What, you don't dare to bite me in my bed?" My remark only made her laugh harder: "Is that a challenge, Mulder?"

"It's a warning, Dana. If you bite I'll spank!"

"Oh Fox, you and your empty promises!"

As weird as it sounds, and this sounds really weird, I know, but we always used our first names during sex. Our last names were full of history, they carried so much meaning, but lots of baggage as well. Dana and Fox were young and innocent, too young to seriously talk about sex, they just teased each other, but I was never sure if she maybe really desired to be spanked, or even if I actually wanted to be bitten again.

Skinner's bed was disturbingly pleasurable, after all. He forgave us, by the way. I bought him new sheets, Scully gave him another bottle of vodka and we were all friends again. He even seemed content to see us together.

What still bothered me was the fact that Scully seemed to have enjoyed my bed much more with Mark than with me. As hard as I tried not to think about him, he was always present somewhere in my mind. He conquered her so easily, and I feared it happening again, if not with him, maybe with someone else. That's why I was even willing to consider a couples therapy, the ultimate nightmare for me, but something Scully has a thing for. If she discusses her personal life with some professional anyway, why not be there to hear it for myself. It wasn't like she was keen on talking to me.

When she finally stopped laughing, Scully politely, but determinably refused my offer.

Thank god!

"How come you never go on dates?" Ahab asked me once. I laughed and explained that we don't need dating, since we already know each other so well.

"Yeah, but that's not the point," he frowned at me.

"What do you know about dating," I dismissed his opinion, but it kept nagging me. Even as still a preteen, Ahab was magnet for girls. With his charisma, sometimes I wonder if he was switched in the hospital with my real son or maybe if my sperm got mixed up with some celebrity's and Scully unknowingly got impregnated with a stranger.

Considering that, I started to observe Ahab as well. I would never admit it to him, but I decided to take his advice after all.

For our first date, I took Scully dancing. She wasn't a good dancer, but she really enjoyed it, and I was amazed to see her in a dress.

The next weekend we went to a movie. Then picnic in nature. I took her hiking and fishing and exploring many of the places we had already seen during our work on the X files, but this time we went there just to be alone with each other, without a worry in the world for at least few hours.

When I got short of ideas, I asked Ahab for help. I tried his suggestions and they mostly worked. One day, I might ask him to write a book with me.

Our son helped us find joy in life and ultimately to cut fewer onions. I suspect he did it because he really hates onions. Or maybe he just wanted us out of house. Soon enough, he would require more freedom and the less he needed me the more I thought about going back to work. The X files were closed for years, but Skinner said he could find me a position in another department. Scully supported me, seeing as the writing didn't go as well as it used to. I was either too happy to write or I used up all the stuff I had to write about and it was time for new adventures.

But then I met Molly and I stopped thinking about work. She was the kind of adventure you don't find in FBI and she challenged my beliefs more than the X files ever could.

I might be a guy who believes in almost anything, but there's one thing I never believed in: love at the first sight.

Molly changed that.


	42. Papers

„Mulder," I finally dared to ask: „How opposed are you to marriage?"

„Hm, Scully, who says that I am?" he sounded curious. I sighed deeply and quickly pushed the papers towards him, before I lose my nerve: "I, um… I've done some calculations and… It does have its advantages…"

"Are you proposing to me, Scully?" he looked at me, puzzled and amused.

"I… I guess you could look at it that way. Yes," I blurted. There, I said it. It was up to him now. If the papers didn't convince him I would just have to figure out a different approach.

"With these… numbers?" He didn't seem angry. He wasn't disgusted by the idea. He didn't say no. Yet. I clung to that.

"Would you prefer if I went down on my knees?" I offered, knowing that he might. And I would. Whatever it takes.

"No, but," he sighed, momentarily at loss for words: "We never talked about this. I didn't know you… Why… What brought this?"

"It doesn't have to mean anything, it's just a matter of formality, really."

"Scully…"

"At least think about it," I almost begged him. It wasn't fair and I knew it, but he was my only option, the only man I could possibly ask.

"What are you not telling me?" he was suspicious now.

"I don't expect you to understand."

"Understand what?"

"I'm not asking you to do it with me."

"Do what?"

"Mulder, they wouldn't let me adopt Emily because I was single and working a lot. Maybe now that we are a family… If we just formalize it…"

"Formalize? Adopt?"

I had to smile at his parrot behavior. He had a right to be utterly confused, though. I wanted to explain it to him, but my head was spinning from excitement and I had a trouble forming useful sentences.

"There is a child in my hospital," I finally formulated satisfying explanation: "A very sick, orphaned child. Mulder, she doesn't have anybody."

"She?" His hands were shaking now, but so were mine.

"She has cancer," I whispered. Tears formed in his eyes but they fell from mine. We reached for each other at the same time, simultaneously, as we were a one being, and our hands griped each other as if they were holding for dear life. It's a good thing we were sitting because my legs gave up on me as I watched Mulder relive the memories of my illness, of my death bed, of the same fight for life that I now watched a lonely child go through daily all by herself.

"Will she live?" he finally asked.

"I don't know," I admitted.

"Scully, you've been through so much," he said gently: "Your cancer. Emily's illness. Are you really capable of dealing with another child's death?"

"I don't know if I am," I sobbed: "But Mulder, if she dies it will happen with or without me. I know what she's going through and I can't bear to let her fight it alone."

"And I know how it feels to do it with someone, to helplessly watch a person who means the world to you wilt away, while there's nothing you can do for her…"

"I'm not asking you to do this with me."

"And I'm not letting you do it without me."

"Mulder…"

"I've always wanted a daughter, Scully," he smiled sadly, openly crying with me: "Let's give her a childhood that she deserves."

"Even if it doesn't last?" I asked hopefully, realizing for the thousandth time how much I truly need him, always needed him.

"For as long as it lasts," he assured me: "But let's do this thing right."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean…" he got up from his chair, still holding my hands tightly in his, and kneeled in front of me: "Dana Katherine Scully, will you marry me?"

I was barely able to nod, flooding with feelings. He looked so beautiful and nothing ever felt more right in my life.

"I love you Fox William Mulder," was the only answer worthy of the moment.

"Is that a yes?" he required clarification. Oh honey!

"That's a yes," I smiled in confirmation and he gave me the best kiss I ever received, for the first time kissing me as my fiancée.

I kissed him back, for the first time as Molly's father.


	43. Molly

"Molly, honey," Scully gently stroked the cheek of a sleeping little girl: "There's someone here who wants to meet you."

The child stirred a little and slowly opened her eyes setting them straight on me.

"Hi daddy," she smiled weakly.

I smiled back at her, immediately losing myself in those deep, dark, brown eyes.

"How…?" Scully was confused: "Who told you…?"

"I dreamed of him," Molly explained, not taking her eyes off me even for a second: "He came to take me home." She reached her little hand towards me and I took it, sitting on her bed: "I'm here, baby."

"I'm not a baby," she scolded me.

"You're right, I apologize," I chuckled: "How are you feeling?"

"I'm tired," she said weakly: "But I will be better, I promise! Don't give up on me."

"I won't," I assured her. Her tiny hand was so hot in mine, she must have been running a fewer. She was in the middle of aggressive therapy and my heart ached for her, but there was also a sense of peace, as she filled a hole in my life that I didn't know existed. I just met her and I already felt connection beyond words, unlike anything I ever felt before, not even when I met my son. Though, I wasn't even able to feel much back then.

"Do you want me?" Molly asked with fear mixed with hope and my heart broke in tiny pieces. I didn't mind much, my heart is used to breaking and I have a doctor at home who can fix it. I just cared about fixing hers. How hard must it be for her to go through life alone, in pain, in hospitals? I felt ashamed for having it so good in my childhood. I might have grown up in a broken home, but at least it was a home. I felt ashamed for thinking that the little cup in Scully's freezer was my only chance of having a child, while so many abandoned children grew up unwanted, unconsidered simply for not sharing my genetic material. I felt ashamed for all the couples who did adopt, but with strict requirement of getting a healthy child, while those like Molly, who needed love and care the most, were left to die alone. I was disgusted with the world that thought Molly that she needs to get healthy in order to be wanted.

"Of course I want you," I told her: "Do you want me?"

"Nobody cares about what I want."

"I do," I said and she smiled, closing her eyes again. I leaned to kiss her on the forehead. My baby. No, not baby. My little girl. Or maybe six years is not little anymore? I had to learn so much about girls, and I was already looking forward to it. Ahab would help me. Maybe Scully as well, but I suspected she never was a child, so what does she know?

Scully. I turned around but she wasn't there any more. I didn't notice when she left the room, which is not a good quality for a former FBI agent. Molly must have hypnotized me!

"I want you daddy," she whispered and I was already ready to die for her, to kill for her, even go through fire for her. Not just because I would do it for any little girl, but because this was my little girl and I was already proud as hell of her.

Scully and I worried how Ahab will deal with our family addition, but he didn't seem to have a problem with it. When Molly felt a little better we took him to the hospital to meet her and, being a social butterfly that he is, Ahab instantly made a connection.

"When my parents adopt you, you will be my sister," he informed her and she nodded seriously: "But I am older than you so you will have to listen to me."

She nodded again.

"You can have my old toys," Ahab went on: "I'm eleven so I don't need them anymore, but we will also buy you new toys. What do you want?"

"A doll," Molly said shyly and I squeezed Scully's hand. In the world of modern technology, this child just wanted a doll. How come we never thought to ask? We only bought her stuffed animals.

"What color do you want your bedroom walls?" Ahab inquired further and Scully returned my grip. Another information we failed to seek for. How did we ever manage to go through life without Ahab?

"Pink," Molly smiled, looking at our son with pure adoration. I made a mental note to remind them that they will soon be related, before I remembered that Scully looks at Ahab with the same expression. I felt proud of him as I suddenly realized that we wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him. Without Ahab I wouldn't have Molly, nor Scully. He made us into a family, not just by existing, but also by showing us how. In our household he was the closest approximation to a functional adult.

"Do you like books?" Ahab asked: "Can you read?"

"Yes, but not very good," Molly admitted.

"I can read to you sometimes," Ahab offered: "Dad used to write books for children when I was younger. Then he wrote for adults. Now he's not writing any more. He's not doing anything any more."

Ouch! My pride for him went down a bit. A lot, actually.

"And mom has a really cool tattoo! Did she show you?"

Molly shook her head and looked at Scully with excitement in her eyes: "Can I see?"

"Not now, honey," Scully answered. She looked embarrassed and that made me chuckle. I used to hate that tattoo as much as she does, but since it's been a part of Scully for so long I learned to like it.

"We have to go now, Ahab," Scully said: "Molly needs to rest. You can see her again tomorrow."

We all kissed Molly goodbye and were ready to leave, but she had one more question for us: "Will you change my name?"

"You don't like your name?" Scully was surprised.

"I do, but don't parents decide about that?"

"I like your name," Scully smiled.

"Me too," Ahab agreed.

"What about you daddy?" she looked at me seriously. Oh, I was so looking forward to spoiling this one!

"I love your name," I assured her: "I once had a fish named Molly."

"Can I have a fish?" Molly asked excitedly. We all looked at Scully for answer.

"Sure," Scully smiled.

"Why can she have a fish and I can't have a cat?" Ahab complained.

"We'll think about that," Scully promised him and I winked at her. We already decided to get him a cat for his birthday.

"What about my last name?" Molly asked and Scully and I looked at each other. Another aspect that we didn't think to discuss yet.

"Mulder Scully," Ahab had no doubts: "Just like me."


	44. Mark again

I met Molly one day while I was upset about seeing Mark. Things between us had been tense since the break-up and I was hard on myself for not being able to fix them. My guilt for sleeping with Mulder wasn't helping. Men have been cheating with me before, but I never cheated anybody, yet with Mulder and Mark it felt like that. They were both in love with me, at the same time apparently, and I wasn't really able to decide if any of them is the right one. I wasn't sure if Mulder and I would ever fully resolve our past issues or if Mark and I could ever develop the deep connection I shared with Mulder.

I worked with one, slept with the other, all the while secretly feeling their roles in my life should be reversed. Basically, I was cheating on both of them. I still had all I ever wanted, but somehow the pieces weren't quite fitting together.

Then I met a child who didn't have anybody. Yet, she was bright and cheerful, taking from life all that she could, never asking for more. I started to take care of her to distract me from my problems, and she was soon relying on me. Without parents, relatives, or friends, I was all she had. Molly needed me more than Mulder did, since even he had more than me in his life.

Now I needed him. Molly needed him. We couldn't stay together without him. It took me weeks to get the courage to ask him, while I researched a lot, looking for advantages of marriage that would appeal to him. It's a step I never would've considered without Molly. I was doing it all for her, but when Mulder kneeled in front of me it felt like the right step for us as well. I realized then that I am, in fact, in love with him. It wasn't glorious, blind love, nor the intense passion, but the warm friendship, the thing that proved to last. I couldn't even imagine raising Molly with Mark, or giving her anybody but Mulder for a father.

From the moment they met, they became inseparable.

Molly was weak when Mulder first met her, so I had to send him home soon. We didn't say much to each other, since his look told me everything I needed to know. She was ours.

What I didn't know was that Mulder didn't go home. I found him almost an hour later sitting in the waiting room, with Mark squatting in front of him. His head was in his hands and he was shaking, it looked like he's crying.

"What's going on here?" I was alarmed. They both looked at me and I was relieved to see that Mulder is not crying after all, but something was clearly wrong.

"It's alright, Dana," Mark said calmly, but Mulder objected: "No. It's not. We let her die, Scully. We could have treated her, but we… We just let her die."

I froze at his words and my heart sunk to the ground. Emily. He was talking about Emily. Before I knew it Mark was by my side, holding my hand, but I didn't pay attention to him.

"No," I shook my head fiercely: "We had no choice. We couldn't have saved her, we could've only prolonged her suffering. It wasn't… It wasn't a right thing to do…"

I wasn't trying to convince Mulder. I was trying to convince myself, as I've been doing constantly for the last fifteen years. I was vaguely aware that Mark was leading me away.

"No!" I protested: "He needs me."

"Later Dana," Mark insisted: "Let me take care of this. You two need to talk, but this is not the place for it."

"Don't try to come between us," I warned him.

"I'm not trying to come between you. I'm only trying to help."

"Oh spare me, please! I know that you hate him."

"Hate is too strong of a word, Dana. Besides, it's time we declare peace with each other. All of us."

I wasn't answering, so he continued: "You two never talked about your feelings for Emily, did you?"

I just shook my head.

"You never told me about her," he said gently.

I shook my head again. It's wasn't just Mulder. I refused to discuss my pain even with my mother or my therapist. I couldn't stand anybody by my side for a long time after Emily died and I felt completely alone and isolated. How could anybody possibly understand?

"I'm sorry you had to go through something terrible like that," Mark sighed.

"I'm fine," I insisted, not needing his pity. He had two healthy daughters, who never had cancer or green blood nor were born prematurely. He couldn't even begin to imagine things that Mulder and I saw, scars that we carried. Even Mulder's fertility was stolen, while Mark gave his up willingly. The world was unfair place.

Mark watched me carefully for a few moments, then he run his hand gently through my hair: "You are doing a brave thing with Molly. I admire that."

His touch gave me goosebumps. I suddenly wanted to bury my head in his chest and let him take away all the pain, as I used to do for so long, but at the same time I realized that it was only a temporary escape, never a true solution to anything. I couldn't help but wonder if I was using Mulder, or Molly for that matter, for the same thing.

"I love him," I whispered, in a desperate attempt to escape what might have been friendly gestures, but might have been romantic advances as well and those I didn't feel strong enough to reject.

"I know you do, " he sighed, not breaking the contact: "You always have. I was just fooling myself. And so were you. I think."

"What happened to him?" I asked, forcing myself to remember my fiancée who I just saw having some kind of breakdown, instead of concentrating on the feeling of my ex invading my personal space.

"I think he's remembering…"

"He never forgot."

"No, but he forgot how it felt. It's the feelings coming back to him. It's a good thing, a man needs to own his feelings. Hard, but good."

"Make sure he gets home safely. I need to go, I have a patient," I lied, but I had to get away from him. I was on the verge of tears and my hospital didn't need another scene from Molly's parents or we might lose the chance to call ourselves that. Mark's words were like burning acid on a wound that never healed. I remember, as if it was yesterday, the first feeling that came back to Mulder, when he called me a frigid whore in an outburst of unreasonable rage. It hurt, because it hit too close to home and I did nothing since but prove him right. I mean, who gets engaged twice in a year, with different men? Who can't have an orgasm unless she's held down and used like a… Oh God! Even my years in celibacy didn't help.

Mark never judged. Mark understood my dirty needs. He was a temptation in the true meaning of the word so I had to get away from him.

I went to church after work, to confess, to pray, and to avoid facing Mulder. Then I went shopping but didn't buy anything, followed by a visit to a bar where I didn't drink anything. Finally, I went back to hospital to check on Molly and watch her sleep.

When I arrived home Ahab and even Mulder were already sleeping. I got ready for bed as quietly as I could and just when I lied down and closed my eyes, Mulder spoke.

"Where were you?" he asked me.

"I was alone," I tried to negate accusation before he comes to the idea of making one.

"I know, Mark was here with me," He knew very well what I was thinking about.

"Mulder," I sighed: "If you are having second thoughts…" I changed the subject, bringing Molly into focus. I didn't need to say her name, he knew what I was talking about.

"Am not," he replied: "Are you?" Now we weren't talking about Molly anymore and I knew that. He didn't need to say the word marriage to communicate it to me.

"No."

"Do you miss him?"

"Yes."

"Tell me, Dana. Tell me how to be like him." By this point he was kissing my neck and stroking my belly. Getting on a first name basis meant only one thing and I willingly snuggled into his arms.

"I can't," I moaned.

"Tell me, Dana," he repeated.

"No. With him it was all about pleasure. With you it's about connection. That's enough for me, Fox."

"Are you sure?" he asked while taking my pajama off.

"Mark is a history," I assured him: "Why are we even talking about him?"

"Because… I asked him to be my best man."

I couldn't help but chuckle. Trust Mulder to come up with an awkward idea like that. Luckily, Mark knows Mulder is a bit… out there. He would never accept.

"He accepted," Mulder continued, as if reading my thoughts.

"What?!" I sat up abruptly, shoving Dana away and sending emergency call to Scully to take charge and clean this mess: "Mulder, this has better be a joke!"

"Why are you upset?" he looked genuinely confused.

"Why?! What if I asked your ex? How would you feel?"

"Well, Diana is dead and Phoebe is in Europe, so I don't think that would work."

"It's just them?"

"Just them."

"Oh Mulder… I just… I don't understand."

"Mark took me home and we talked for hours. We kinda… connected. It turned out we have a lot in common."

"Like what?!"

"We both want you to be happy."

"Oh God! This is not happening."

"I don't want anybody to have hard feelings about our… marriage. I want us to start… clean."

"But Mulder, we are already living together and we are not going to have a wedding, we'll just sign the papers, that's how we agreed to do it."

"We still need a witness."

"Okay," I sighed, at loss for more arguments. Earlier that day my lover was falling apart after meeting his dying daughter. If he needs Mark to feel better, he can have him. He let me have Mark when I needed him, so I guess the time came to return the favor. I wasn't sure how this was going to work out, but God knew we needed all the help we could get.

And God truly works in mysterious ways, it's almost as if he works for the X files…


	45. Mulder again

I was just getting ready to go home, after a long and hard day in the hospital. My patient lost her triplets in the premature birth that we weren't able to postpone and those kinds of cases always get to you. All three of the newborns cried out after leaving their mother's womb, but none of them was strong enough to survive. Within a few hours they were all gone.

All of our technology and expertise wasn't enough to save even one of them. All of their parents' love and prayers weren't enough…

I'm not a religious man, but in times like that I silently give thanks to a god that may or may not exist for having two healthy happy daughters. I see them so rarely and always separately, since they can't stand each other, each blaming the other for their mothers' failed marriages with me.

"If her mother didn't get pregnant, you would never leave us," my older says.

"She's not my sister, she's merely an evil step sister," my younger insists.

Still, they both love me and want me in their lives, and that's a miracle in itself. I may never have a proper family, but I have all the family I could ask for.

I was walking down the corridor in a hurry, thinking only about the warm shower that would soon wash away the hospital smell of death from my heavy shoulders. I almost hadn't noticed the man leaning on the wall, as hospital tends to be full of scared, desperate people and you become so used to it that you barely notice the tears anymore.

Still, this man looked familiar. He looked like… Mulder? His eyes were closed, his hands buried in his pockets and he looked like he couldn't possibly stay upward without a wall holding his back. He clearly wasn't fine.

My first thought was to walk away. He didn't see me and I didn't want to be seen. My second thought was to walk away faster.

Still, I stopped and approached him. Three dead infant's faces were too fresh in my mind to pretend that life is not too short and that I could turn my back to someone who clearly needed help, even if that someone did steal my fiancée.

"Mulder," I gently placed my hand on his shoulder so that I don't startle him and he opened his eyes, with fear and panic taking over his face.

"It's ok," I tried to assure him: "It's me, Mark."

"What do you want?" he asked warily.

"I want you to sit down," I tried my authoritative voice, while the thought to just walk away appeared for at least tenth time by this point.

"Leave me alone!" he shrugged my hand off and tried to walk away from me, but his kneels gave up on him and I caught him and led him to a chair.

"Mulder, what happened?" I tried to find out, hoping he doesn't bite.

He took an angry breath as if he was about to tell me to fuck off, but changed his mind and let it out with a heavy sigh.

"She's dead," he said quietly. My heart went to my throat and I immediately thought of Dana. It can't be! I didn't see her the whole day, but if something happened I would know. The whole hospital would know!

I squatted in front him to get his attention and to hear him better.

"Who's dead, Fox?" I asked and he gave me a hateful look.

"Emily."

"Your sister?"

"No. Scully's Emily."

"I thought her sister's name was Melissa."

"No, not her sister, her daughter."

"Her… What?!" I was genuinely confused. Was he losing his mind? Or did Dana really have a daughter that she never mentioned? Either way, this wasn't looking good. I didn't know what to think. Even walking away wasn't an option anymore.

After a few moments Mulder's face softened a bit and he nodded, understanding: "She didn't tell you." It was a statement, not a question.

"Why wouldn't she tell me?" I asked, alarmed. She either kept a huge secret from me even while we lived together, or she was now living with a complete lunatic.

"Because it's hard to explain. Emily was an experiment," he said with a lot of pain in his voice: "But Scully saw he as a real child. And by the time she passed away… so did I."

He lowered his head into his hands, and just like that all the animosity I felt for him was gone. My heart softened at the sight of a broken man, who lost so much in his life, yet kept an open heart. He was a single father for so long, without other family, without friends or career, living in an isolated place. His sister was kidnapped as a child from her own home, his father murdered by his former partner and his mother committed suicide. Yet, he found enough strength within him to agree to adopt a dying child, without even meeting her first. I don't think I could ever make such a huge sacrifice.

I didn't speak to Dana, but the whole hospital talked. I knew everything. I knew they would have to get married first, and I wasn't initially thrilled with the news, but faced with this man and his struggle I was suddenly grateful that he had Dana in his life. He needed her more than I did.

I ended up taking him home. We drove in silence, but it wasn't uncomfortable silence. It felt like spending time with an old friend. We didn't know each other personally, but we loved the same woman and knew so much about the other one through her eyes.

When we arrived to his unremarkable house, he even invited me inside. I accepted, sensing that he needed company, and after the multiple infant deaths I didn't want to be alone in my own home.

Mulder didn't mention Emily again. I didn't mention triplets.

We talked about raising daughters, and then I bragged about my first granddaughter that was due in three months.

"Three months is a long time," he contemplated.

"Oh, but the time flies," I smiled: "I will soon hold her in my arms."

"But if she came now, she could still make it."

"She could," I agreed: "But I hope she won't have to."

The triplets didn't make it. His son did, though. Life is nothing but a lottery, and it only takes a second to win or lose. Any second.

"How is it possible?" Mulder asked me.

"The child is already fully formed," I explained: "It just isn't strong enough yet to survive outside of womb, but with today's technology…"

"Yeah, I know that," he interrupted me: "But it still feels like a miracle."

"It does," I agreed: "It sure does."

"Well," he said getting up: "We need to celebrate your granddaughter. I'll be right back."

I thought he would come back with drinks, but he brought cake instead.

"Did you make this?" I asked him.

"No, Scully did."

"It's delicious. I miss her cakes."

"I'm sorry about that."

"About what?"

"Coming between you. I never meant to."

"It's ok, Mulder, it wasn't your fault."

"It's just… This thing between us… It just happened."

"Mulder, it's ok. I understand."

"She was happy with you."

"Maybe temporary. In the long run, she always belonged to you. I was too proud to see that."

"I don't know if I can ever make her happy."

"Why is that?"

"She deserves so much more than I can give her."

"For god's sake Mulder, don't go there! Self-depreciation is the surest way to lose a woman. I've been there with my ex-wife, I know."

"I just… I don't know… what she needs."

"You mean in bed?"

"No! Well… Yes."

"Are you asking for my advice?"

"No, I… I'm sorry, this conversation is inappropriate. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable, I just…"

"It's ok, Mulder. It's new for me too. I never had a… friend like you before."

"We are getting married."

"Yeah. I heard. Congratulations."

"Do you want to come?"

"Do you want me to come?"

"I want you to be my best man."

"Ha! That's a good one, Fox!"

"No, I mean it."

"Why me?"

"You are important to Scully."

"Mulder, best man should be somebody important to you."

"I… I don't… have anybody."

"What about Skinner?"

"He is Ahab's godfather. I can't ask him for another favor."

"Are you serious?"

"Do I not look serious?"

"You do, and that's what worries me. Mulder, being a best man is an honor, not a favor!"

"Not on my wedding."

"Jesus, Mulder!"

"Why do you think I have no one to ask?"

"And why do you think an amazing woman like Scully chose you?"

"She wants Molly."

"She wants you, too."

"What about you? Do you still want her?"

"Mulder, it's over between us. I'm not a treat to you."

"She had a hard time getting over you."

"I had a hard time as well, but I think we both moved on by now."

"Will you consider my request then?"

"No Mulder, there's nothing to consider. My answer is yes. It will be an honor to be your best man."

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it."

"You know I hated you, right?"

"I hated you too. But I guess you are not that bad after all."

"Neither are you."

"Well, if Dana could see us now!"

"I wonder where she is. She should be home by now."

"Maybe she needs a little time for herself. It was a very emotional day for all of us."

"Yeah."

"Mulder?"

"Yeah?"

"When she does get back, when you go to bed with her… You just… Take charge. She needs to lose control. That's all."

"Mark?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you want to watch the game?"

"I thought you'll never ask!"

*** Would anybody like to be a beta reader for this story? Please message me if you are interested :)


	46. My wedding

We were just going to sign the papers. Neither one of us felt like celebrating. Mulder didn't have any family left and I didn't want to remind him of that by inviting my not so modest number of relatives. I also wasn't eager to endure their judgment about how I live my life. Besides, we had to do it as soon as possible to accelerate the adoption process, and there just wasn't time for anything else.

Then we told Ahab.

"Tomorrow?!" he was, not so pleasantly, surprised.

"Yes, tomorrow," I repeated: "And we would love if you came with us."

"What about our friends?!" he insisted.

"What friends?" Mulder laughed.

"I'm sorry Ahab, but there's going to be just us," I clarified, hoping against hope it would end the discussion.

„And Mark," Mulder added. Oh God!

„Why Mark?!" If there was anybody my son couldn't stand, it was Mark.

„He's my best man," Mulder said with unexplainable pride.

"Mark?!"

"Yes, Mark."

"Noooo! What about Molly?"

"She's in hospital."

"What about Skinner?"

"He's working."

"What about grandma?"

"She's in San Diego."

"You two are hopeless!" Ahab finally gave up, demonstratively leaving our living room. I sighed and lowered my head, feeling a migraine coming. I never thought I would have to discuss my wedding with my son. I expected marriage to come before children.

"Is this really how you want to do it?" Mulder asked me and I raised my head to look at him.

"How am I supposed to do it?"

"However you want to. I just… I want you to be happy."

I smiled and approached him to kiss him, but instead I licked his cheek.

"What do you think you're doing?" he smiled at me, puzzled.

"You had a little marmalade there," I explained: "Um, strawberry."

"Let me have some," he leaned down to taste my lips, which I gladly opened for him. It was a tender moment, roughly interrupted by our son's raised voice coming from the hall: "I tried, but they are not LISTENING to me!"

I rushed to the door, with Mulder chuckling behind me. When he saw me, Ahab quickly finished his phone conversation: "I have to go, but I'm counting on you."

"Who was that?" I asked him, with my most authoritative voice.

"Um… Nobody?" he tried.

"Ahab!"

"Can you please call me William?"

"Why?"

"I hate my name."

"Since when?"

"Since ALWAYS!" he rolled his eyes at me, then turned his back to leave.

"Ahab!" I called him back.

"Mom! What did I just tell you?"

"Alright. William. Come back here!"

"I need to go to the bathroom. It's an emergency!" he insisted.

"Fine," I sighed in defeat, taking the phone from him before letting him off the hook: "Go!"

My authority works with everybody but my son.

"What was that about being called William?" I turned to Mulder.

"Skinner's influence," Mulder frowned.

"Skinner?" it was my time to chuckle.

"What's so funny, Scully?"

"Oh come on, Mulder, can't you see it? He's YOU."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well, nothing… Fox."

Hearing his name, Mulder suddenly got serious. He stared at me for a few seconds while my brain worked overtime to try and read his expression, then he did what I least expected: he started to take his shirt off.

"Mulder, what are you doing?"

"Excuse me, Scully, I thought I heard 'Fox'. And you know what that does to me."

He came close and pulled me to him, kissing me hungrily while his hands roamed under my shirt, sending shivers through my naked back. Without my consent one of my hands went around his neck, while the other pressed on his bare chest.

"Oh come on! Get a room!" Ahab was suddenly back.

"We have a room," Mulder mumbled in a brief pause from invading my mouth. If one of us was going to stop this, it would have to be me.

"He's right, Mulder," I gently pushed him away: "Get dressed. We are not married yet."

"I knew you were going to make me wait," he winked, getting his shirt from the floor. Luckily, Ahab already retreated to his room, otherwise I would die from embarrassment. It felt good, though. For months our son feared our break up, enjoying every second we spent in even a briefest touch. If he was finally getting sick of us it might mean we were approaching some sort of normalcy in our lives.

Though, life, just like work with Mulder was anything but normal, so I didn't have a reason to expect marriage to be much different. I was nervous, still very unsure about my ability to commit. It was different with Mark, if I married him I would be his third wife, which kind of takes the pressure off the title. I wouldn't be the first one that couldn't make it work if it came to that. But to Mulder I was going to be first and only one. I knew that. Even if it comes to divorce, even if we never speak again, he will still honor his commitment to me. He would never find anybody else. When something truly matters to him once, Mulder is not capable of ever moving on.

I was afraid that no matter what I do, I will end up hurting him.

It was too late to think it through, though. If I bailed now, I wouldn't only lose Mulder, but Molly as well. I felt like a trained animal that willingly goes back to her cage after being let out for a short walk. It wasn't fair to feel like that and it made me hate myself, but I couldn't help it.

Good thing only Mark and Ahab were going to witness it. Or so I thought.

As it turned out, I didn't take the phone from my son soon enough.

When I heard the doorbell before sunrise my first thought was that Mulder locked himself out while sleep walking. As bizarre as it sounds, it wouldn't be the craziest thing he ever did. "One thing is sure," I thought as I walked down the stairs: "I will never be bored in this marriage."

Mulder was in the hallway, yawning, and I could hear the television sounds coming from the living room. Great, he fell asleep on the couch again! I would almost prefer sleep walking!

We exchanged puzzled looks, listening to another ring and a persistent knocking. While our FBI trained minds tried to assess the situation, Ahab rushed past us to the door and eagerly opened them before we were able to stop him. Did my paranoid lover really forget to teach our son not to open the door to strangers in the night?

When I saw who was on the other side, I actually regretted it weren't strangers. I can deal with burglars and stalkers, but my family is a whole different story.

Before I realized what's going on Tara was hugging me, mother kissing Mulder and Mathew following Ahab to his room. Bill just stood there holding the bags.

"I'm sorry if we woke you up," mother told me after a proper greeting: "But we couldn't be here sooner. It's going to be a long day."

"We came to talk you out of it," Bill said.

"No, we didn't," Tara smiled: "But you have to give your brother a chance to try. It was the only reason he agreed to come with us."

"Don't you ever get tired of ruining her life?" Bill turned to Mulder.

"It's nice to see you too," Mulder gave him a sour smile. I looked at him helplessly, trying to assure him that this wasn't my idea and he briefly turned his eyes towards Ahab's room then back to me, shrugging his shoulders. One score for Ahab. Or, as of recently, William. His parents lost again.

Mulder tried to take the bag from my mother, but she stopped him: "Not this one, Fox. It's a bad luck if you see it before the wedding."

"I won't look," Mulder promised, but my mother wouldn't let go.

"Mom, if that's a wedding dress…" I tried to protest, but she interrupted me: "Dana, I married your father in this dress and I was saving it all these years for you and… Missy. If you don't wear it, no one will."

"Mom," I started, but I didn't know how to continue. I didn't want a dress and I didn't need guilt trip over Missy. It was my wedding and I should be allowed to do it my way, without interventions from my mother or my child. Or Mulder for that matter.

Oh god!

I realized at that moment that it was his wedding just as much as mine, and I never even asked him what he wanted. How could I've been so selfish? I had to fix it, while there was still time.

"What do you think?" I asked him.

"It's up to you, Scully," he answered.

"No, Mulder, it's up to US," I corrected him: "Tell me what you think."

He opened his mouth to say something, but changed his mind and closed them again, staring sheepishly at me. The rest of the adults went quiet and I could feel their intense gazes on us.

"Mulder, I need to know what you think," I insisted.

"I… I wouldn't mind seeing in you in a dress, but…"

"Then I'll wear it for you," I decided.

"Thank you, Fox," my mother couldn't hide her happiness, but I raised my hand to keep her quiet.

"What else?" I asked Mulder.

"Nothing Scully, I…" he looked as embarrassed as I felt.

"Damn it, Mulder, just tell me!"

"I want you to take my last name," he finally said and the room suddenly went even quieter. It dawned on me that I should have started this conversation in private instead of entertaining my family, but it was too late.

"Mulder," I was desperately searching for the right words that wouldn't hurt his feelings or humiliate him in front of my mother and brother, but there didn't seem to be any: "I don't think that's… necessary. It would require lots of paperwork and…"

"Then let me take yours," he nodded, not taking his eyes off me. I froze under his gaze and the room went even quieter than just a second ago. How can a complete silence become deeper than it already is? How does Mulder do it?

"You're kidding," I finally said.

"No," he shook his head: "You asked me what I wanted and this is it. I always imagined my wife and I would share a family name. I don't mind if it comes from your side of the family. My side is… Well, I don't even know if my dad was my real father."

"Mulder," I whispered, not knowing what else to say. I was overwhelmed by his words, but I wasn't sure how I felt about them. I just knew that I was on the verge of tears.

"Yes, you can still call me Mulder," he smiled and the room was now less quiet, as I could almost hear everybody thinking.

"Dad, that's so cool!" Ahab broke the silence. When did he get back here?

"That's insane!" Bill was enraged: "It's MY family name and you CAN'T have it!"

"Damn it, Bill!" I yelled at him: "This is not your decision to make!"

Now everybody started talking and yelling at the same time and I actually missed the silence, as awkward as it felt. I took Mulder's arm and led him to Molly's room, to talk in private, as I should have done from the beginning. I made him sit on the bed, then I stood in front of him and… And I had no idea what to do next.

"Are you mad at me?" he asked, making adorable puppy face. I couldn't help but chuckle, as the whole situation suddenly felt funny.

"Are you sure you want to share my brother's name?" I asked him playfully, but he got serious again.

"I'm not marrying your brother, Scully. I'm marrying you. And I want everybody to know where I belong."

"As if they don't already!"

"What does that mean?"

"It means that I was Mrs. Spooky from the moment I first entered your basement office. They sometimes call me that even now, in the hospital."

"How did they find out?"

"I don't know, Mulder. Word got around."

"Sounds like an X file."

"Don't even start!"

"Don't you ever miss that time?"

"No. I don't want that kind of darkness in my life anymore."

Before I knew it, our conversation turned into making out. Even after all this years, X files and darkness still turn him on! And even though sex doesn't work so well for us, kissing Mulder feels divine.

"Ok," I smiled finally: "Take my name. But keep yours as well."

"It's a deal," he agreed, wanting to go back to kissing me, but I had to stop him. I could still hear the raised voices of my family members and I had to get back to them to prevent a war, if it was not already too late.

After leaving Molly's room we could hear Ahab and Mathew arguing in Ahab's room, right next door.

"It's not normal!" it was Mathew's voice: "Man can't take his wife's last name!"

"Why not?" Ahab challenged him.

"Because that's not how it works!"

"I also have my mother's last name! Why can't dad?"

"Well, you shouldn't either!"

"Why not?"

"I told you, that's not how it works! Your dad is a loser!"

"No, he's not!"

"Yes he is! My dad says so!"

"Your dad is stupid!"

I wanted to go there and stop them, but Mulder pulled me back: "I can handle this. You go take care of the adults."

I just nodded and rushed to the living room. Bill was walking up and down, passionately explaining his view of my mistakes to Tara, who looked like she wanted to say something, but couldn't get a chance.

"Where is mom?" I asked them.

"She went to make some coffee," Tara answered: "How did it go? Will you let him take your name?"

"Will he keep his?" Bill asked.

"Both," I smiled.

"That's bullshit!" Bill protested.

"Would you rather I take his?" I asked and that made him quiet, just for a second, but long enough for me to sneak out of living room and check on mom.

Kitchen smelled like coffee and I gratefully took a cup she offered me.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked the question I knew I couldn't avoid: "You know I don't like when you keep secrets from me."

"It's not a secret, mom," I tried to explain: "I just… It all happened so soon."

She looked at me intensely, as if she was trying to read my thoughts. It gave me chills.

"Who is Molly?" she finally asked.

"I take it you already know," I sighed: "I asked him not to talk about her yet. That kid never listens."

"I'm your mother, Dana, not just anybody!"

"I know, mom, but there just wasn't time for that. I got engaged only days ago!" And months ago, for the first time. Thank god she didn't find out about that one, at least!

"Are you even sleeping with him?"

"What?!"

"It's a simple question, Dana. Are you having sex with Fox?"

"Mom!"

"Are you planning on consummating your marriage, Dana? Or is this just some sort of agreement in order to get another child? Like it was with Ahab…"

"Jesus, mother!"

"Answer me, Dana! I'm not going to be left in the dark anymore!"

"YES, damn it!" I threw my cup of coffee at the wall and the pieces of it flew all over the kitchen: "Yes, I'm sleeping with him! Are you happy now, or do you want me to go into details?!"

"I hope you are talking about me," I heard Mulder behind me. He heard! Oh god, it could have been Ahab, or Mathew! I could feel myself blush from embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, Fox," my mother apologized, not to ME, but to Mulder: "I just want to be sure you're not making a mistake."

"Well, if we are," I interrupted: "It is OUR mistake to make."

"Mrs. Scully," Mulder said: "There's nothing I wouldn't do for your daughter and our family. I hope you know that."

"Where is that coffee?" Bill stormed into the kitchen, interrupting our discussion. I was relieved to be off the hook for a second, until he noticed the broken cup and the stain on the wall and immediately started to accuse Mulder for domestic violence.

"ENOUGH!" I yelled at him: "I broke the cup, not Mulder! If anybody is violent in this house that would be ME, which is no wonder considering I grew up with YOU!"

"Dana, calm down," somebody said, but I wasn't paying attention to whoever it was.

"This is MY house and MY wedding, and I didn't invite any of you, so if you don't like my husband you are free to leave!"

Finally, everybody went quiet. It felt good to get it out of my system, so I added in a much friendlier tone: "That being said, I hope you all stay."

"I didn't come all the way to Washington to miss on your wedding," Bill said: "But it doesn't mean I have to like… Him!"

"Bill, honey, that's enough," Tara took his hand. Mulder and mom were already cleaning the mess.

"I'm going to take a shower," I excused myself and went to the bathroom. I actually wanted a long, hot bath, but there wasn't enough time for that. Still, I indulged in the shower much longer than usual, enjoying my moments of solitude before the show goes on.

When I got out of the bathroom, Mulder was gone.

"Mark came for him," mom explained: "He took Bill and Tara as well. You and the boys will go with me."

"Go where?" I was alarmed.

"I don't know, honey, he gave me this address. Are you ready?"

I tried to complain, but it was of no use. Other people were running the show, and I had no choice but to participate. I allowed my mother to put me in her dress, and to my relief it was fitting enough.

"Something old would be this dress," she smiled fondly: "And the veil is new. I bought it right before coming here. Bill was annoyed that he had to wait for me, but it was so worth it to see it on you!"

"You need something borrowed," someone said from the door. I turned around and he approached me, giving me his handcuffs: "In case he tries to get away."

"Sir, I…" I didn't know what to say. Of course Ahab would invite his godfather as well, how come I didn't think of that? For my son Skinner is the ultimate hero and role model.

"You look beautiful, Scully."

"Thank you, sir."

"Is there enough time for her to go to a hair dresser?" mom asked.

"Sure, I'll take her," Skinner said: "You and the boys can go wait with the others."

"My hair is fine," I protested, but they didn't care.

"How often do you get married, Dana?" my mother asked rhetorically.

"I take it we are not going to just sign the papers?" I noted after getting into Skinner's car.

"No," Skinner said simply: "William was having none of it."

"Why did I think having a kid was good idea?" I sighed.

"I wonder the same thing," Skinner laughed: "But he turned out ok, everything considered. If you don't want him anymore, I'll take him."

"Not a chance!"

Skinner's phone kept ringing while I was getting my hair done, and by listening to his side of the conversation I could figure out it was something about my wedding, but I didn't find out much more than that. I refrained myself from asking until the hairdresser gets done with me, which took a while. When it was over, however, I liked the result. It was simple, but classy and elegant.

"Everything is ready," Skinner informed me: "They are just waiting for us."

"Will you tell me where we are going?" I finally asked.

"Patience, Scully. It's not much, but it's the best I could do with such a short notice."

"You didn't have to."

"Well, William thought I did."

"It's not his wedding."

"I know, Scully. He would never do it behind everybody's back."

He stopped the car and turned towards me, but he didn't meet my eyes. I got worried that I offended him, so I tried to apologize.

"I didn't mean to sound ungrateful, sir. I just…"

"It's ok, Scully," he said, still not looking at me.

"Then why are we stopping?" I asked.

"We are here," he answered: "Look."

I turned around. It was a little meadow, with two tables, lots of flowers and balloons. There was food and even a wedding cake. Everybody was there: my mother and brother with his family, Mulder and Ahab, Mark, and even Molly. She was in a wheelchair, wearing a mask, and Nurse Owens was standing right next to her. I was worried about her getting outside while she was still so weak, but she looked so happy, even from a distance. My beautiful, brave daughter!

"This is my wedding gift for you two," Skinner said.

"It's beautiful," I whispered: "How did you manage to do all this?"

"I have connections. Mulder and you are not the only people who owe me a couple of favors."

"I don't know what to say…"

"It's nothing, really. Stay here," he said, exiting the car. I guess Mulder was still not allowed to see me. I wondered about his reaction when he does. All this felt so unreal. It was nothing like Mulder and me, but it was everything like Ahab William. What did we ever do to deserve such a wonderful kid?

I watched Skinner arrange everybody around the wedding arch before coming back to get me, followed by their gazes. I exited the car feeling nervous about being the center of everyone's attention, but Skinner was right there beside me, offering me his elbow.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Your brother didn't want to do this," Skinner explained: "But I won't let you walk alone."

He smiled and waited for me to wrap my arm around his, ignoring the tear that escaped to my cheek. This man was not always on our side, and he didn't approve our union long ago when I tried to force it before either one of us was ready for it. But now he was leading me down the aisle, and I realized how much his blessing means to me.

I hoped my father was watching me from the heavens and I wondered if his face would gleam with pride like mom's, or disappointment like Bill's.

Would Melissa approve?

What about Charlie, wherever he is?

Emily?

How about Mulder's parents?

Samantha?

By the time we reached Mulder my face was full of tears, one for each lost family member.

Skinner briefly hugged me before handing me over to Mulder, telling me to take care of his man. That caused another tear, which Mulder wiped away with all the others when he got me.

When the time came to say our vows, we just gazed into each other's eyes. We didn't have anything prepared, but even if we did words just wouldn't be enough. We looked into each other's souls instead and found ourselves in the other.

Yes, I realized, Missy approves. I wondered if Mulder felt the same about Samantha.

Then my husband kissed me and I couldn't think about anything but him.


	47. One of us

When my mother first told me Dana is getting married, I was honestly happy for her. For the whole second.

Then mom said she was getting married TOMORROW!

I was still happy for her, though it didn't sound like Dana at all.

We are not invited? But Ahab is trying to fix it? He wants us to come as a surprise wedding present?

"What's gotten into Mark and Dana to rush it like that?" I asked mom: "She isn't pregnant, is she?"

"No," mom said: "And she's not marrying Mark."

"Then who..." I started but couldn't finish the question. I didn't have to. The look on mom's face told me everything.

That sorry son of a bitch!

I grabbed the phone and started to dial Dana's number, but I changed my mind and searched for Mark's instead. He answered after the second ring.

"Hello Bill."

"Mark, what the hell happened?"

"What? Is something wrong?"

"My mother just got a call from Ahab about Dana getting married tomorrow."

"She didn't tell you?"

"Mark, are you seriously going to let this happen?"

"What do you think I should do?"

"Aren't you living with her, damn it?"

"No, not anymore. We broke up months ago. I can't believe she didn't tell you."

"Why? What did he do?"

"Mulder? Nothing. It's not his fault."

"Then how come she's marrying him instead of you?"

"I don't know what to tell you, Bill."

"Tell me the damn truth!"

"She's your sister, you need to discuss it with her."

"Listen, I have to go but I'll call you later," I finished the conversation abruptly because mom motioned me to hang up the phone.

"What?" I asked her.

"Don't call her," she pleaded: "She will talk you out of coming and I don't want to miss this. Tara is searching for flights and I'm going to look for my wedding dress."

"Okay," I agreed: "We are going. But there isn't going to be a wedding, not if I have anything to say about it."

"Bill, please, don't make a scene. Remember what happened on Fox's funeral? You know how stubborn Dana is, when she puts her mind on something nothing can stop her."

"We'll see about that," I said more to myself than to mom. My brain was working overtime in trying to figure out why my smart, reasonable sister would leave a nice, successful man like Mark for an unemployed lunatic, wanna-be-writer like Mulder.

"They are adopting a child," mom said on the way to the airport: "A little girl. Molly."

Jesus Christ! Why would anybody adopt a child in her age? She already has a son! Isn't Ahab enough? Or did she find another dying girl that looks like Melissa and started to fantasize about being related to her?

Jesus Christ!

Of all my siblings, Dana was the only one I could trust, the only one I could rely to. We were the reasonable ones, the ones expected to accomplish something in life. Charlie and Missy were the misfits, rule breakers, hopeless rebels against good, solid, traditional values. After Missy died, Charlie stopped bothering with the rest of us. Dana was all I had left and I would die to protect her.

But how do you protect someone who is dedicated to danger? I never understood why she left a promising medicine career to chase… aliens, for god's sake! How could such a brilliant, down to Earth woman fall for a crackpot like her former partner, the man whose actions led to the death of our sister? What did she possible see in him?

"Did she ever tell you she's dating Mulder?" I asked mother.

"No, but you know how she is, she likes to keep to herself."

"Still, isn't this just a bit unexpected from her?"

"Yes, I agree. She has a lot of explaining to do. I don't understand how this happened, but I don't at all mind having Fox for a son in law."

"Mark is better for her."

"I like Mark a lot, but I always hoped she would end up with Fox. They are meant for each other."

I sighed, not willing to continue the discussion. When it comes to Fox Mulder, mom is just as hopeless as Dana is. She is ready to forgive him everything. For some reason, she adores him. I believe she sees him as a substitute for Charlie. Why does a missing son have a bigger place in her heart than the one who is living with her and providing for her?

We took a night plane and arrived to Mulder's place before sunrise. Dana was very tense and easily annoyed, she didn't look happy to me, unlike her self-sufficient fiancée who sarcastically smiled down on us from his self-built pedestal. I was barely able to contain myself from punching his ugly nose, just to erase that stupid grin from his face. However, I didn't come for him, I came for Dana, and I had to talk to her before time runs out and she ties herself up with that bastard.

Unfortunately, I didn't get a chance.

While Dana was in shower, Mark came.

"It's great to see you," he said to me and Tara before turning to Mulder: "Get ready, we have to go!"

"Where are you taking him?" I asked, hoping for the answer like prison or gas chamber, but Mark just smiled and said, like it was the most natural thing in the world: "To his wedding, of course! Skinner found a nice little place to hold the ceremony."

"Scully won't like this," Mulder frowned.

"She'll love it," Mark assured him: "Now why are you still standing here? You don't have to get dressed, I'll take you to my place first, while I run some errands, so you can shower there. Bill, you and Mathew can come with us, and Margaret can take Dana, Tara and Ahab. I'll give her the address."

"I'll go with you," Tara said: "I don't want to separate the boys, they so rarely see each other."

That was bullshit. She didn't want to let me go alone with Mulder, fearing I would cause trouble. My wife doesn't adore him like my mother and sister do, but she doesn't hate him either, which is bad enough.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked Mark while Mulder was getting his suit.

"I have to," he smiled: "I'm a best man."

"If that's a joke, it's not very funny."

"It's not a joke, Bill. We learned to get along."

"I can't believe this, Mark. Any of it! You and Dana were a perfect couple! How could you let her go?"

"What could I've done? She loves him, not me."

"He doesn't love her! He's just fucking with her! In every meaning of the word!"

"Calm down, Bill. I'm the man who fucked your sister. He's the one marrying her."

"What the hell has gotten into you?" now I wanted to punch Mark as well. It was a great disappointment to see that Mulder-charm has gotten into the last person who was on my side. It's not easy not having anyone to trust, but I will always stand for what I believe in, even if I'm standing alone. It's not easy seeing your only sister blindly following the man who leads her to one trouble after another. She claims to be searching for the truth, while living the biggest lie of her life.

If only I could make her see. If only she was willing to believe.

After we all got ready at his place, Mark took us to a little meadow where we helped to set everything up for the wedding. I was still hoping I could talk Dana out of it, but she wasn't coming. Mom and kids came without her, telling me that she's coming with Skinner after getting her haircut done. We had to get everything done before she arrives – Skinner's orders. I realized I would not get a chance to talk to her, so I resigned to just being there for her, while she says her vows, while she tries to live with the son of a bitch, and until it comes to inevitable divorce. Dana is a smart woman, she will not fool herself forever.

I even tried to assure Mark that she would soon come to her senses, but he laughed at me.

"I'm not going to wait for her, Bill."

"It won't take long, I promise. I know my sister."

"If you think that she will ever be free from Mulder, you don't know her as well as you think you do."

"You were married twice. You know it doesn't always last."

"No, but it's lasting for you, isn't it? Look Bill, I felt the same as you do, I was bitter for months. I would lie if I told you that I don't want to stand with her under this arch instead of him. I would lie if I told you that this is easy for me. It's not, but it's happening, whether you or I like it or not. Now, I already have two ex-wives who still hate my gut. I want to try staying friends this time."

"You can be her friend without being his as well."

"I don't think that I can."

"Have you tried?"

"Have you tried accepting him?"

"No," I sighed: "No, Mark, I haven't. I never had a reason to."

"I think today you are getting a reason."

I opened my mouth to answer, but there was no point. Mark was too far gone to listen to reason. Besides, we were interrupted by arrival of nurse pushing a child in wheelchair. Christ, if that girl was Molly…

It WAS Molly.

Mark introduced us all to her by our names, but Ahab explained our roles: "Mathew is our cousin, this is his father, you can call him uncle Bill, but his real name is William like mine! And this is grandma."

Her uncle? My niece? Never! She didn't look strong enough to survive the wedding, anyway.

"Shouldn't she be in a hospital?" I asked Mark.

"She should," he agreed: "And nurse Owens will take her back as soon as ceremony is over. But I thought being with her family for an hour or two would do her more good than harm."

"Is she contagious?"

"No. It's cancer."

For God's sake! Cancer! Did Mulder choose her so that he could experiment on her with his implants, like he did on my sister? I know he has a soft spot for little girls, but this is too much! How can he do this to Dana? The last thing she needs is another child to bury!

I sometimes wonder what really happened to his sister. By what I know he was the last person to see her alive and her body was never found. I wouldn't be surprised to find out he was the one who killed her. A true psychopath would be able to execute a perfect murder like that, even while still a child, and convince everybody in his innocence, or even alien intervention!

He went as far as faking his own death, for crying out loud!

When Dana finally arrived Skinner arranged us around the arch, asking me if I would walk her down the aisle. Absolutely not! I would never give my sister away to that monster and if anybody else was able to see through Mulder's deception neither would them.

Dana looked ridiculous in that old dress. She was clearly nervous and tense, looking like she could run away at any moment. When she met my eyes I smiled encouragingly, to let her know that I'll keep her safe if she does.

The ceremony was a joke. They didn't even know what to say besides "I do". They just stood there staring at each other like idiots.

"That's pure love," mom cried stupidly next to me.

"Remember us?" Tara whispered from my other side.

"Of course I do," I whispered back. Ours was a proper wedding, with all the friends and relatives, live band and photographer. All that after a proper CHURCH wedding. Mulder would never ask for God's blessing, as he doesn't even believe in our Lord and Savior. I didn't like my sister living in a sin, but it is still way better than being married in God's eyes. A sin can be forgiven, but church marriage would bind her until the day she dies.

And so it happened. Mulder became Mr. Scully. Just like that he was suddenly one of us, and my only comfort was that dad didn't live long enough to see it.


	48. Wedding night

She said 'I do' - I was legally hers.

She let me kiss her – in front of her family and our children, even in front of Mark.

Take that, Bill Scully Junior!

We even had rings to exchange – it was Mark's wedding gift. The place was Skinner's gift and guests were Ahab's. My - can you believe it? – mother in law provided the dress.

It wasn't how we planned it. We didn't want all that attention and fuss about signing a few papers. We just wanted Molly. Paperwork never meant more than necessary distraction to us. It was our family that mattered.

The ceremony meant something to our family though, so we played along. Scully was crying when she joined me under the arch, and I was on the verge of crying myself. I wasn't used to things being taken cared of for me. All my life I had to fight for what I believed in, never getting anything for free. I realized at that moment that I will never be alone again. I had a wife and a son to take care of me when I get old, grey and stupid. I had a daughter. All the aliens and conspirators, all the monsters and criminals, all Marks and Bills, even all of my own flaws and mistakes weren't able to take that away from me.

I was kissing my ultimate prize, for the whole world to see.

I had everything.

I won.

 _We_ won.

I never would've made it without her.

"Mulder, let me go," Scully giggled in my arms: "These people want to congratulate us."

"What people?" I smiled, not letting go: "I see only you."

"Mulder!"

"No. They can't have you. You are mine now."

"I was yours for a long time. This doesn't change anything."

"She's still my daughter, Fox," Mrs. Scully interrupted us: "Let me hug her. I have a flight tonight and you two have the rest of your lives for each other."

I did let her hug Scully, but I made her hug and kiss me first. I caught Bill's gaze as I was embracing his mother and I swear he tried to kill me with his look. Thank god he doesn't have any psychic abilities or I would be a dead man!

He shook my hand though, and said something that didn't sound nice at all, as much as he tried to make it seem at least remotely polite and friendly. He really tried, I'll give him that.

He also tried to break my fingers with his grip!

"Mulder," Scully said after we were done with hugs and good wishes and everybody switched their attention from us to food: "I have a little something for you. As my wedding gift."

"Since when do spouses give wedding gifts to each other?" I protested: "I don't have anything for you."

"I don't want a gift from you! I just want you to shut up and follow me."

She took Skinner's car keys and led me to his car. I obediently followed her, wondering what she could possibly have for me.

"Get in," she commanded, opening the driver's door.

"We can't run away from our wedding," I objected: "Besides, Skinner will kill me if I drive his car!"

"Just get in, Mulder!" Scully rolled her eyes on me, going to the passenger's side. I sighed and complied. Maybe she just wants to talk in private, I thought, and if I just sit here without touching anything maybe Skinner will have mercy on me.

"Alright," she smiled after managing to get her dress in the car and close the door. She then reached to the back seat and handed me a paper bag she fished from there: "I bought this for you on the way here."

I took the bag from her, confused to find only a cup of soda inside.

"What is this, Scully?" I was genuinely puzzled.

"Just drink it Mulder," she ordered.

I shrugged my shoulders and opened the lid. Whatever it was, she presumably wasn't trying to poison me, so it was safe to play along.

I took a sip. It was Ice Tea. Gee, thanks Scully, for making sure that your husband doesn't dehydrate, even though that table you just pulled him away from was full of drinks…

Then it hit me. Ice Tea! I remembered. She remembered! I couldn't believe it. It was so long ago. Just one sip of a drink with cold name warmed my heart thoroughly. I turned to my wife with a huge grin on my face.

"Did I get it right this time?" she asked me with a loving smile.

"You sure did," I nodded: "It took you almost twenty years, though…"

"Was it worth the wait?" she was suddenly serious. I stared at her for a moment, not understanding why she even had to ask.

Then I handed her the cup: "You tell me."

She took a sip, not taking her eyes of me. Then she slowly licked her lips and smiled again: "I wouldn't change a day."

I leaned closer to kiss that beautiful smile. There were lots of things in those twenty years that I would change if I could, but this wasn't a moment to mention them. If there was ever a time to remember only the good times, it was our wedding day. But maybe we wouldn't be here if it weren't for the hard times. All the dangerous situations and losses we suffered made our friendship strong and unbreakable, giving it a quality that only soldiers in a war, who fight for their lives side by side, can understand. If my fertility wasn't stolen, we wouldn't now have Ahab. If she didn't meet Mark we wouldn't have Molly.

It wasn't a time to look back and ponder on my mistakes, it was finally time to look forward to the future. And first thing to do in the future was to get out of that car before I lose control and consummate my marriage right there.

How come the best moments of our physical relationship always happen on Skinner's property? Maybe I should ask him to sell me his car…

I walked around the car to open the door for Scully, but she wouldn't get out. She was waiting for me to offer my hand and pull her out, giggling like a little girl. I never saw her so playful and carefree. If I knew marriage can do that to her, I would have married her sooner.

"Can you believe we are here?" I asked, still holding her hand.

"Must be fate, Fox," she smiled, putting the emphasize on my name, with a mischievous look in her eyes. She was teasing me! Well, two can play that game.

"That's Mr. Scully to you," I corrected her.

"Oh god, Mulder, I can't believe you want to do that. Are you really serious about it?" she asked. Once a skeptic, always a skeptic!

"To be honest, Scully, no, I wasn't serious. I don't know where that came from. Maybe I was just trying to piss your brother, or explore your limits, I don't know, but the point is, as soon as I said it felt like the right thing do. I lost Samantha, Scully. I was in charge and I lost her. It broke my family and I dedicated my life to repairing the damage. I thought if I could find her everything would go back to the way it used to be… And now my whole family is gone. You, this… It's my second chance. You gave me a family of my own. Carrying your name will be an honor, and a symbol of my dedication to everything that we built."

By the time I stopped talking she was in tears again.

"And you said you didn't have a gift for me," she whispered. I smiled and gently moved the strand of hair from her face, placing it behind her ear. I left my hand there and leaned down to kiss her, but I stopped before reaching her lips.

"We'd better go back, Scully," I said: "There are bees here!"

"Oh no, you don't, Mulder! We are married now, which means you can't use bees as an excuse anymore," she smiled before closing the gap between us. Her lips touched mine just briefly, before she added: "But we do need to get back now and socialize with our surprise guests."

I placed my hand on the small of her back and we walked back to our party. Mark and Bill were standing away from the others and discussing something, but, lucky for me, I didn't catch what. Seeing us approaching them, Mark pulled Scully towards Bill.

"You really need to talk to your brother," he said, then pulled me away from them: "Let's give them some privacy."

"Is he still bitching about me?" I asked when Bill could no longer hear us.

"Yes," Mark shook his head: "And he's somehow blaming ME for this wedding."

"I blame you as well," I shrugged, which made him laugh.

"Maybe blame is not the right word," I mused: "Maybe it's gratitude. I do appreciate you doing all this."

I waved my hand with the ring on it to show him what I mean. It made him smile.

"So, how does it feel? You know, yours was the shortest engagement I ever heard of."

"Wasn't your shorter?"

"Ha, you're right! I forgot about that!"

"Did you?"

"Mulder…"

"How does… this… make you feel?"

"How did it feel when she was with me?"

"Well…"

"Yeah. Like that."

"Still?"

"Mulder, I'm fine. It's Bill you should be worried about."

"Yeah, big brother. I don't have a chance in hell with him."

"He's a good guy. Give him time, he'll come around."

"I guess so," I said even though I didn't agree with him. If it was my sister I would never come around. No man would be good enough for her. Not that she would listen to me, of course. She never did. She was so much like Scully in that way.

As we approached the table I heard Skinner laughing, as he was telling to Maggie and Tara: "And he found the ship, but… In 1939!"

"You were a Nazi," I said behind his back.

"And Dana saved the world, didn't she?"

"Sure she did," I nodded, which made Skinner give meaningful look to the women.

"How?" Tara asked.

"By turning the ship," I shrugged. I don't really remember why she had to turn the ship, but it sure worked.

"It was a very stressful job," Maggie said, as if that explains what happened to me: "I'm glad that you and Dana moved forward."

"Molly wants to say goodbye," Mark interrupted us: "She needs to go back to the hospital."

She didn't just want to say goodbye, she wanted to hug each and every one of us. We all complied, except Bill who kept his distance. Molly said it was the best day of her life and that thought alone made it all worthy.

The rest of the day went well, we enjoyed the nature and cake, even though it was low-fat-tofu-heavenly-dream or something like that…

"When will you admit that you love tofu?" Scully asked me while I was eating my third piece.

"It's not that I love it," I objected: "It's just that it's so diet that I would starve with only one piece!"

"I told Skinner to buy your favorite," Ahab said. Traitor!

We stayed on the meadow until the sunset. Skinner refused our offer to help him clean up, saying it's already taken care of. I guess he hired someone. Skinner always plans ahead, not leaving anything to chance, even when you give him such a short notice as we did. I mean, as Ahab did.

"Are you mad at me?" Ahab asked when we were finally back home.

"For what?" I wondered.

"For this… Surprise."

"No, that was wonderful," Scully assured him: "Though I wouldn't mind if you discussed it with us beforehand."

"I tried! You never listen!"

"We will."

"You always say that, but you never…"

"Ahab, it's late. Go to bed."

"You see?"

"See what?"

"You called me AHAB! You never listen!"

"Sorry, William," Scully pulled him into an embrace and whispered into his hair: "I love you so much, sweet William."

"And dad?" he asked. Sometimes I get a feeling that he fears me being unloved more than I do.

"And dad," Scully assured him.

"And Molly?"

"And Molly, of course."

"And grandma?"

Ahab didn't stop before making sure every family member was deeply loved by Scully. It's the game he plays only with her, never with me. I suppose my love is taken for granted, but I wouldn't have it any other way.

"And Mitch?"

"Um… No. I don't like cats."

"But I do! When can I get a cat?"

"Ah… William, go to sleep. We'll talk tomorrow."

"Ok. Good night mom! Good night dad!"

"Good night!"

After Ahab went to his room we stayed alone in the silence. It felt weird somehow, after a loud festive day. We knew what we had to do, but it suddenly felt awkward to both of us.

"So," Scully finally said: "You want to go to bed?"

"Yeah, sure," I answered. I felt more like watching a television for a while, but it doesn't seem appropriate on your wedding night.

Wedding.

Night.

With my partner.

I was scared to death.

It was suddenly real. I doubted being a husband would make me a better lover and I didn't want our wedding night to be remembered by bad sex. The pressure was too high. I wanted to run. I just got married and I already wanted to escape from my wife!

I sat on the bed and watched Scully take off her clothes. I could still picture her in wedding dress, though that thing was already on the plane for San Diego. Scully refused to keep it, saying that she doesn't plan on marrying again so she won't need it anymore. Nobody mentioned Molly. If she lives long enough I will buy her all the wedding dresses in the world!

When she stripped to her underwear, I noticed there was something in Scully's panties. Something big. I got up and walked to her.

"What's that?" I asked, putting my hand inside. I took out handcuffs. Not some sex toy, but real, official handcuffs.

"Where did you get this?" I asked, raising the object in question. Then I raised them higher and closer to my face because I loved how they smelled, coming from where they came from. It was turning me on.

"Oh, that was something borrowed," she smiled: "From Skinner."

"Why are you keeping them… Down there?" I was confused.

"I didn't know where to put them. Wedding dresses don't usually come with pockets."

"Why didn't you give them back to him after the wedding?"

"Mulder, I couldn't do that! Not after how I handled them. I will clean them and return them tomorrow."

"What if he needs to arrest someone tonight?"

"What if he doesn't? Mulder, he must have another pair! Besides, he wanted me to keep them for the wedding night. I think he believes we are into that kind of thing."

"Are we, Scully?"

"I don't know. Are we?"

"Let's find out!"

"Ok."

Now she looked turned on. Maybe we would be able to perform, after all.

We finished undressing and lied on the bed facing each other.

"So, are you planning on validating this marriage?" Scully asked me playfully.

"Are you?" I asked back, only I was serious. She looked at me with puzzled expression, trying to read me.

Never taking my eyes off her, I took the handcuffs and handcuffed myself to the bed. With both wrists trapped around the bar of the bed!

"What are you doing?" she was surprised. She expected me to handcuff her. Well, not tonight. I didn't feel like overpowering her tonight. I wanted her to take charge this time.

"You like to fight with me," I explained: "About everything and anything, all day long. You like to fight at night too. Physical strength is the only aspect in which you don't have a chance. I'm giving you a chance."

"I don't want to do this," she shook her head. The keys were attached to the handcuffs and she reached for them.

"Don't," I stopped her: "I want to know how it feels."

"How what feels?"

"Not participating."

"Mulder…"

"What is it, Scully? Catholic guilt? Why can't you be on top? Why can't you take the initiative? Just once?"

"Mulder, please. Don't do this!"

"I'm not doing anything, Scully. That's the point."

She turned her head away from me, but I didn't need to see her to know that she's on the verge of tears. I heard it in her voice. Her getting upset meant I was onto something. I just had to figure out what it was.

"Stop profiling me, damn it!" she snapped, getting off the bed. How does she do that? How can she hear me thinking?

"I'm doing this for you," I said softly. I really wasn't trying to pick a fight, but she just walked out of the room, leaving me tied to the bed. Shit! I wanted to go after her, but I couldn't, she took the keys with her! I wanted to call her back, but I didn't have any desire to wake up Ahab. I didn't need him to see me like this.

She wasn't coming back. I was impatient. Then I was angry. Then worried. And angry again. At myself, for starting this game, at her for walking away from me, and at Skinner for giving us this lethal weapon. If we file for divorce tomorrow it will be all his fault!

I struggled a bit, but it only made me feel worse. I had to settle for staring at the ceiling.

Finally, after at least an hour, she came back.

"What the hell are you doing?" I snapped.

"Giving you what you wanted."

"This isn't…"

"Mulder, you wanted to give up your control. You wanted to surrender to my will. Well, it was my will to leave you here like this. This is how losing control looks like. It's not about being treated like a king, it's about not knowing what I'm going to do to you, and accepting it without questions. We both know you can't do that. Being in control is what drives you."

"Scully, if anybody here is control freak, that would be you!"

"Maybe. That's why I always had trouble finding a man who I could trust enough to surrender myself."

"Did any man trust you enough in that regard?"

"I don't know. No one ever asked me to switch roles. You are the first. I'm… I'm not ready to try. I'm sorry."

"It's ok. We have the rest of our lives for that."

"Thank you."

"If you could just untie me now…"

"Not so fast, Mulder! I'm starting to like this game."

"But… I thought you meant…"

"What I meant, Mulder, is that I don't want to fuck you. I'm not even going to make love to you. But I'm still going to give you what you want."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean…" she started, but didn't finish the sentence. She climbed on the bed next to me and placed her head on my chest. Her hand went over my heart, as if she was feeling my heartbeats.

"You just want to cuddle," she said to my nipple: "I know that. And tonight, that's all I want as well."

"When did you become a profiler, Scully?" I was impressed. I didn't realize what I want until she told me, plain and simple.

"Shut up now," she said and I complied. We lied in silence for a while, but she soon started to shake and my chest was suddenly getting wet. She was crying.

My wife was crying on my naked body on our wedding night, and I couldn't even wrap my arms around her. If that's what losing control means she was right, I didn't want it!

"I'm so fucked up Mulder," she sobbed: "But I'm working on it. Don't give up on me…"

"Never!" I promised. I managed to raise my head enough to reach the top of her head with my lips, but that was it, the only comfort I could provide. I desperately needed my hands back.

"I want this to work," she said after calming down a bit: "But I was never able to make it work."

"There's first time for everything, Scully."

She raised her head and looked at me. I smiled encouragingly, trying to tell her with my eyes what I couldn't put in words. I didn't mind if she was struggling with believing in us. I could believe for both of us. I always had.

"Don't give up on me," she repeated.

"I won't," I promised.

When she finally untied me I could barely feel my hands. She rested her head on my chest again, but this time I could hold her and it was all I wanted to do.

"I don't want to have sex just because we are supposed to," she said: "I don't think you do either. I think this is enough for tonight."

"This is perfect," I said and I meant it.

So, we didn't validate our marriage after all. Not that first night, at least. And it didn't matter a bit. On one hand, our relationship was platonic for a very long time so it didn't feel inappropriate for our wedding night to honor that.

On the other hand, just holding this woman's hand always felt as intimate and intense as making love. We didn't need much more.

This was us, pure and simple.

And I wouldn't have it any other way.


	49. Uber Scullys

When Molly was ready to be released from the hospital I took a week off from work to move her into our house and teach Mulder how to take care of a sick child. We were all very excited about her arrival, after weeks of endless paperwork and evaluations.

"You are a perfect family for Molly," social worker told us on her last visit: "With mother who is a doctor and stay at home father, I am confident that she will have everything a little girl needs."

"She has a brother, too," Ahab added, always needing to be included in absolutely everything.

"Of course," she smiled fondly, unable to resist my son's charm: "She's a very lucky girl to have you for a brother. I almost wish I was in her place."

The smile left the woman's face as soon as she realized what she said. Nobody wanted to be in Molly's place, no matter how great family she got. Nobody _should_ ever be in her place. I know. I was.

I didn't allow myself to think about my cancer. I didn't allow Mulder to remind me and Ahab never knew. Mulder left it to me to decide when to tell him, but even after all these years it remained a painful subject for me. I didn't want to upset him. There was no point to feed him every single horror story from our X files days.

Molly knew, though. I wanted to show her that I understand what she's going through, so I told her everything about my cancer that was appropriate for a child to know. It's how we bonded.

I scratched the back of my neck, where the foreign object, which may or may not have cured my cancer, resided. If only we could find something like that for Molly. Sensing my thoughts, Mulder covered my hand with his and gently pulled it down. I turned to look at him and his eyes said No.

Don't.

We can't.

Of course we couldn't. Even if we still had FBI resources available to us, they would be of no use. Molly's disease was not engineered. It wasn't given to her, like mine was. It just was.

There wasn't much we could do for her and we agreed we wouldn't force it. Our primary wish was to give her a family.

When we brought her home Molly was still too weak to walk, so the wheelchair came with her. The main problem was her dizziness, caused by a brain cancer. It wasn't operable, and the treatments she was receiving were mostly experimental, so we didn't know what to expect. They could cure her. They could kill her. We just didn't know.

Someone once said: the only thing worse than knowing is not knowing, and the only thing worse than not knowing is knowing…

No.

I will not think about that.

Ahab pushed the wheelchair to the porch steps, where Mulder was supposed to take over and carry it inside. He grabbed it from the front, but he didn't lift it. He stayed there looking at Molly, who had her eyes closed, exhausted by a long drive.

"Wake up, princess," he said gently: "Your palace is ready for you."

He was rewarded with a weak, but sincere smile from our daughter. She opened her eyes and raised her arms towards him.

"Can you take the wheelchair, Scully?" Mulder asked me as he embraced and lifted Molly: "I have to carry someone over the threshold."

"I am not your wife," Molly giggled in his arms.

"No, but you are my daughter. Besides, your mom doesn't let me carry her."

"Why not? Is she heavy?"

"I don't know. Scully, you gained some weight recently, haven't you?"

"Shut up, Mulder!" I scolded him, pretending to be offended because it made Molly smile. Ahab, however, wasn't amused.

"Dad, mom is not fat! How can you say that?"

"I didn't say she was fat," Mulder objected: "Just that she gained a little weight."

"It's the same thing!" Ahab insisted: "You have to apologize!"

"Okay, okay," Mulder smiled, and then he looked at me with a serious expression: "Scully, I'm sorry that you got so fat."

I couldn't help but chuckle at his words, and Molly was giggling so hard that her whole body shook in Mulder arms. I could talk about me being fat all day if it makes my little girl happy, but my big, protective boy was getting furious.

"Mom, why do you let him talk to you like that?"

"Don't worry, William. We'll make him pay for it."

"How?"

"Um… I don't know. Do you have any ideas?"

Now Mulder chuckled and turned to Molly: "Do you hear that, darling? It's going to be you and me against them from now on."

"I know!" Ahab exclaimed with joy: "As a punishment, he must make a cake for us!"

"How will cake help your mother lose weight?" Mulder inquired.

"She doesn't have to eat it!"

"Who are you trying to punish, William?" I laughed: "Dad or me?"

"Cake is not for punishment," Mulder smiled: "It's for a celebration. And we do have something big to celebrate, don't we Molly?"

"What?" Molly asked.

"You coming home," Mulder said with so much devotion that it brought tears to my eyes. He was seducing Molly in the same way he seduced me many times over and over, and she was falling for it just as easily as I always did. He had a way with words to express such a depth of the soul that made me follow him even when it didn't make any sense, or when I thought it was time to move on because I didn't seem to make any difference at what we were doing.

"I owe you everything, Scully, and you owe me nothing," he once told me, but he was so wrong and I was too overwhelmed to be able to tell him that. I owed him everything as well. He gave me a purpose and unconditional support, steadily guiding me towards the bigger picture from my pitiful life built on destructive relationships and parents' expectations.

I owe him even more now: a hungry boy pleading for a cake next to me, and a sick girl snuggling in his arms. A ring on my finger, which even my mother gave up hope of ever seeing.

"Look what you did, dad!" Ahab brought me back from my thoughts: "You made mom cry!"

"Scully, what's wrong?" Mulder turned to me with a concerned look.

"Nothing," I smiled: "I just… I love you so much. I know I don't tell you enough…"

"You don't have to tell me, Scully. I know."

He came much closer, still holding Molly who closed her eyes and stilled again, resting her head on his chest in such an intimate way that I was almost jealous.

"We both know," he said before leaning down to kiss me and I opened my lips for him, placing my arms around his, around our daughter. I closed my eyes just like Molly did and lost myself in the moment, drinking from the main source of my strength.

"Dad!" Ahab interrupted us: "You said cake!"

"Right," Mulder smiled, then gave me a quick, loud peck: "We need to fatten your mother," another peck: "Your THIN mother," peck: "Thin, SHORT mother," peck.

"Stop teasing your son and bake him a cake," I smiled, unable to hide how much I enjoy his affection: "But let's put your daughter to bed first."

"No," Molly objected, without opening her eyes: "I want to help make a cake."

"But, honey, you are exhausted," I stroked her hair: "You need your rest."

"I'm fine," she insisted, which made Mulder laugh.

"There's no use to argue with that," he explained when he saw my puzzled look: "It never worked with you."

He gently kissed her on the forehead then turned to me again: "She's so your daughter!"

Molly was soon in her bed, but the baking moved to her room as well. It was Mulder's idea of a compromise. He would go to the kitchen for tasks that required washing or heating, like melting a chocolate, but then return it to Molly's room for the rest of us to combine with other ingredients.

It wasn't sanitary, it wasn't wise, but it made Molly happy and her life was so fragile that she might never get a second chance to bake. So I allowed it, participated even.

By the time the cake went into the oven, Molly was fast asleep. After I made sure she was safe and comfortable, I went to the kitchen where Mulder and Ahab were already making dinner.

"Do you need any help?" I asked them

"Sure," Mulder said: "You can do the dishes."

We worked in silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts, but Ahab was never the one to keep his to himself for a long time.

"When I grow up," he suddenly declared: "I want to be an FBI agent."

"Did you hear that, Mulder?" I chuckled: "He's so us!"

"You are interested in the X files?" Mulder asked him.

"No, I would never work on the X files!" Ahab made a face as if he was disgusted: "I want other agents to like me!"

"Did you hear that, Scully?" Mulder frowned: "He's nothing like us!"

I said nothing, but I couldn't hide my smile. I used to want others to like me as well, but in the end I was more than satisfied with being liked by just one particular agent.

"Can you take over, Scully?" Mulder asked me: "I want to take a shower."

"Sure," I agreed.

"Just stir it from time to time," he gave me instructions before leaving the kitchen.

"I can do that," Ahab said, pushing me away.

"Okay, I'll just keep you company then."

"Mom, I can stir a sauce by myself! You don't need to watch over me! I won't burn a kitchen or anything!"

"Maybe I just want to talk to you."

"About what?"

"About… FBI?"

"Ok. What do you want to know?"

What do *I* want to know about FBI?!

"Did Skinner put that thought into your head?"

"No, he says it's dangerous. He thinks I should be a doctor."

"He's right. It is dangerous."

"But I want to help people!"

"Doctors help people, too."

"Yes, but only sick people. I want to help normal people."

"Sick people are also normal."

"Okay, but… They can die. It's sad. I don't want to do that."

I sighed, unsure of how to proceed with this conversation. I didn't want to tell him that people die on you if you work for the FBI as well. The only difference is, as a doctor you try to save their lives; whereas as an FBI agent you pull the trigger…

How do I tell my child about those that I was forced to kill? How could I bare to watch him pursue the same unfortunate path?

"If you and dad could do it, why can't I?" Ahab was persistent.

"It was a long time ago. There's a reason we left it behind us."

"But that's how you met."

"Yes, that's how we met."

"I want to meet someone, too."

"You will, Ahab. People meet in all kind of ways, not just at work."

"It's William."

"I know."

"You called me Ahab."

"Sorry."

"If you hadn't worked for the FBI, you wouldn't have met dad," Ahab explained to me: "And then I wouldn't even be born!"

I paused for a second, thinking about what to say to such a ridiculous statement. Me meeting Mulder wasn't all it took to make Ahab. It took Mulder being neutered like a dog! It took me entering a premature menopause, and Mulder getting a terminate disease. It wasn't all hearts and flowers. Far from it, in fact. Getting a child together was impossible task, but we did it, like all the other impossible stuff that we had to do. It changed our lives, it changed us. Without Ahab, I wouldn't be the same Dana as I am today. Without him Mulder and I wouldn't exist either. We would both be someone else.

But science was on Ahab's side, saying only a certain egg and a certain sperm could have brought him into existence, and for those egg and sperm the probability of ever meeting was basically zero. We all had a much better chance of winning a lottery every single day of our lives, than of simply being born.

Luckily, Mulder was standing at the kitchen door, with the more cheerful, if less plausible, explanation.

"We were destined to meet," he said: "If it wasn't on the X files, it would be somewhere else, in some other way. But we were destined. And so were you."

"How do you know?" Ahab asked him.

"I just know. You know it, too."

They gazed at each other for a few seconds and watching them gave me goose bumps, because in that moment, just in that one single tiny little moment in time before my mind had a chance to pull me out of it, I shared Mulder's belief completely and thoroughly.

"Is Molly going to die?" Ahab asked suddenly, changing the subject so abruptly that I forgot everything that we discussed just a minute ago. How does he do that, jumping from one deep conversation into another, as if he was talking about the weather?

"We don't know," Mulder said cautiously.

"We are doing all that we can for her," I added: "The rest is in God's hands."

"Dad doesn't even believe in God!" Ahab protested angrily, and I could understand his frustration. I didn't like leaving things in God's hands either, as much as I believed in him.

"It doesn't matter what I believe," Mulder said: "What do you believe?"

"I don't know! I don't care! I just want Molly to live!"

His eyes filled with tears and he quickly turned around trying to hide them from us. Mulder went to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, just being there, not pushing, not saying anything, because what could he possibly say?

He just stood there even as Ahab started to sob, and didn't move until our son finally turned around and wrapped his arms around him. In an instant Mulder was on his knees, embracing him tightly, giving him the only comfort he had to give.

I closed my eyes, but it didn't stop the tears that were flooding my cheeks as well.

Ahab wanted Molly to live.

I wanted her to live.

And there wasn't a single thing in the world we could do to make it happen.

Ahab wanted to be an FBI agent. I didn't want him to. I finally understood how my parents felt about my career choices. I left the kitchen following the sudden urge to call my mother and tell her I love her, if not apologize.

"Hi Dana, how are you?" she answered in her typical calming voice and I instantly felt better.

"Molly came home today," I informed her.

"Oh, that's great. How is she?"

"I can't believe I have a daughter…"

"Dana, are you ok?"

"I miss you, mom."

"I miss you too. We'll come for a visit soon."

"She's weak, but her spirit is strong."

"Dana?"

"I'm fine mom."

"You are not making much sense. Where is Fox? Can I talk to him?"

"No. He's… busy."

"Dana, what's going on?"

"I just need some air. I'll call you later, ok?"

"Dana, listen to me! I know…"

"I really have to go," I told her and hung up the phone before she could protest again. I really needed that air anyway, so I went outside for a short walk. It was already dark, but the moon was bright and full. The stars were especially shiny and numerous, and for the first time I felt grateful to live in Mulder's remote, isolated house, away from city lights.

The more I walked, the stronger I felt. My mother's instinct kicked in and I knew I had what it takes to fight for my girl's life, no matter the obstacles. She might die in the end, but even without cancer she could die at any time, for countless reasons. Still, she's alive! Ahab is alive! Even Mulder, against all odds, is still alive!

I turned around and walked back towards the distant lights of our home and it took me at least half an hour to reach them. I didn't mean to walk that far, but I lost sense of time. Mulder didn't ask questions when I returned, he just wrapped a blanket around me.

"What are you doing?" I asked him.

"You didn't take your coat and it's freezing outside," he explained.

"Mulder, I'm fine."

"Scully, you're shaking."

I looked at my hands, feeling confused. I was indeed shaking, and now that he pointed it out I realized how cold I am. I placed my hands underneath his shirt to warm them up on his hot skin and he pulled me into an embrace. I could feel his heart beating hard and I knew it was because of me. He worried about me. He always did.

"We'll get through this, Mulder," I promised him, which earned me a kiss on the top of the head.

"You missed dinner," he whispered: "But I think it's still warm."

"I'm not hungry."

"Come on, Scully. You are not fat, that was a joke," he teased me.

"Oh, now it's a joke?" I teased back: "Or is it merely a plot to make me even fatter?"

"I just want to make sure you have enough energy for a certain exercise later."

"Ummm… You do know how to stir a woman's appetite."

I slid my hands down his torso, reaching for his pants. I was suddenly hungry, but not for food.

"Scully, wait," he stopped me: "I want to show you something first."

He led me to Molly's room and gently opened her door. There she was, sleeping peacefully in her new bed, safely wrapped in her new brother's arms.

"I left him alone with her to read her my stories," Mulder whispered: "This is what I found when I went to check on them."

"Did you take a picture?" I wondered.

"Of course I did."

I leaned into Mulder and he hugged me protectively, just like Ahab did with Molly. We watched our children in silence, afraid to move as to not interrupt the magic of the moment.

"Do we wake him up and send him to his bed?" I finally whispered.

"No," Mulder whispered back: "You know how much he hates being woken up. Let's leave them alone. They need this. You come with me to our room, Scully; I want to show you what I need…"

"Hmm… I wonder what that might be…"

I followed him upstairs where I satisfied all his needs and fell asleep in his arms, gaining strength for a new journey ahead of us. We won a battle for Molly's custody, but the harder battle, the battle for her life, was still going on.

It was my first night as Molly's legal mother and as it turned out raising a son didn't prepare me much for having a daughter. It was a completely new experience, to which not even being a daughter myself could have prepared me. Pink room, dolls and dresses were never my thing and it was hard to understand what my daughter sees in those things. I always preferred boys' games and even when I grew up I tried to succeed in man's world. I kept trying to prove myself to my father and brothers, my mentors and partners, but never to my mother, sister or female colleagues. I never yearned for a woman's acceptance, so I had no idea how to be a role model for a clearly feminine girl.

Mulder was doing much better in that regard. He never got bored of watching the same Barbie movie over and over again or playing with Molly's dolls. He wrote stories just for her, brushed her hair hundred times every morning to make it nice and soft, and even painted her nails. Soon he found a new hobby in making miniature doll houses and I had to admit they were amazing. When Mulder decides to go for something he goes all the way, capable of making brilliant art work even from the most basic chores.

Molly was his princess and she was so proud of that role. If my father ever called me 'princess' I would be deeply offended, but for Molly it was a dream come true. For Mulder as well. He just wanted to worship her, and Ahab was not far behind. Our son was restless until we finally allowed him to organize a party for Molly, on which he could introduce her to his friends. Molly was shy in front of all those unfamiliar children, and they were cautious in approaching her, at the same time intrigued and intimidated by her condition. But Ahab, confident as ever, introduced his sister with so much pride and joy that by the end of the day everybody wanted to be friends with her. Those feelings were completely mutual, and it was amazing experience to watch a little girl, that never before belonged anywhere, finally fit in.

"Thank you for finding her," Mulder told me one night when we went to bed, and I fell asleep wondering who found who exactly. Getting pregnant with Ahab was a true miracle, but meeting Molly wasn't anything less. She was my daughter just as much as Ahab was my son and a part of me just as much as if I had actually given birth to her.

Despite all our differences, my daughter and I had one thing in common: we were both daddy's girls.

Did you hear that, Ahab? Your little Starbuck finally has a complete family of her own.


	50. Spoiling Molly

From the moment I carried Molly into our house, into our family, I wanted to spoil her. It wasn't an easy task. Molly was all alone for her whole life so she learned to be happy with almost nothing at all. Whenever I asked her what she wants to do, eat or buy, she would say that she only needs a hug. She said it helps her with her headaches, but she never complained about the pain. Molly was incredibly fragile and tough at the same time.

I didn't like to see her in a wheelchair, preferring to carry her in my arms. Scully thought the wheelchair is practical, and for Ahab it was fun, he loved to push Molly around. As a matter of fact, he loved doing anything with her, thrilled to have another child in the house.

Molly wanted to know everything about her new family and her favorite evening activity was watching videos about Ahab when he was a baby. I had lots of those. I filmed Ahab practically every day, capturing every little detail of his infant days. I did it for Scully. I didn't know where she was, but I believed I would find her one day, and when that day comes I didn't want her to miss anything. I documented his first smiles, first words, but also first illness and dirty diapers. The good and bad, I saved it all for her.

Molly enjoyed those videos, but Scully never did. They made her sad, reminding her of what she missed, so we watched them while she was working. Now, holding Molly in my arms, I finally understood part of how Scully felt. I never changed my little girl's diapers, I wasn't there to potty train her or teach her how to walk. Still, she was mine from the day she was born, even before, I had no doubt about that. I never told anyone, and I never will, but I like to believe that she was conceived on the same night Scully and I made love for the second time, when I knew I had to let her go, but I couldn't without having her that one last time. I want to believe we made a child that night, a child that, since our bodies couldn't deliver, came through somebody else, then patiently waited until we were ready for her.

The dates match.

Molly recognized me as her father as soon as she first saw me.

That's all the evidence I need. And even though it can't be proved, it certainly can't be disproved either.

Unlike with Ahab, Scully and I didn't have many arguments about raising Molly. Our daughter's days were numbered and we both knew it. If we couldn't prolong them, we could at least make them memorable. There's no point in setting rules and playing a bad cop with a dying and, until very recently, an orphaned child.

No, Molly was to be spoiled. She deserved nothing but happiness, at last. If we had to cry we hid it from her, and from each other. We cried in shower or… I don't know where Scully cried, but I know that she did. She began to scratch her neck often and I knew what was going on in her mind. If the chip could cure Molly, Scully would take it out and give it to her, even at the cost of her own life.

The question is, would I let her? Would I ever be able to choose between my wife and my daughter? How could my father…?

No. I will not bring Samantha into this!

Ahab didn't cry, though, not since the day Molly arrived home. He wanted us to tell him that Molly will be alright and we couldn't, so he chose a denial. He treated her illness as if it was a simple flu, annoying and tough, but far from fatal.

"You are lucky nobody ever filmed YOU naked and crying," he told her once, furious with our addiction to his baby videos.

"Come on Ahab, you were a baby!" I tried to reason with him.

"It doesn't make it any less humiliating… FOX!" he answered, annoyed with my insistence on calling him by his first name. He used to be angry at me, but seeing how that didn't accomplish much he switched to the more powerful weapon: using my own first name against me. I wouldn't mind calling him William if it wasn't Skinner's idea, who has been doing it from beginning.

"Ok, William, we can watch something else," I sighed in defeat, because having him call me anything but dad, even if it wasn't something as hideous as my first name, was much more painful than admitting that Skinner was right.

You can't win with Ahab. After all, he's a Scully boy.

"I don't want to watch anything," he said: "I want to talk."

"About what?"

"What did you do to make a smart woman like mom fall for you?"

So, there we are! William Scully. Just like his uncle who hates me. I never should've listened to Skinner and give him the middle name, after all!

"My dad is the best," Molly declared. I gave her a kiss on the head. It was a comfort to have a kind child around while my firstborn is approaching his teenage years.

At that moment Scully arrived home and Ahab rushed to greet her. After a few seconds she was in the living room to greet Molly and me.

"When did you fall in love with dad?" Molly asked her immediately.

"Who says that I did?" Scully laughed.

"There, I told you!" Ahab exclaimed victoriously: "She's too good for him!"

"Why?" Scully was amused: "What's wrong with dad?"

"He's rude and stubborn and… and… and completely self-centered!" Ahab declared.

Scully sat down next to me, laughing hard: "Well, I think he got you pegged," she teased me. I hugged Molly just a little bit tighter, holding onto the only family member that still had some respect for good old dad.

"Seriously, Mulder," Scully continued, not sounding serious at all: "What did you do to William?"

"I called him Ahab," I admitted.

"Ouch!" she chuckled.

"Dad, when did you fall in love with mom?" Molly was determined to hear a love story. Ahab was pretending not to be interested, but he was clearly listening in anticipation of my answer. I didn't know what to tell them, so I just repeated Scully's words: "Who says that I did?"

Ahab gave me a killing look that reminded me so much of his uncle again. It gave me chills.

"Mulder?" Scully raised an eyebrow: "Do you want a divorce?"

"Okay, okay," I said fast, as hearing the word divorce was disturbing even when said as a joke: "I was kidding! Of course I'm in love with you."

"Since when?" Scully was getting intrigued.

"Um… Since the first time I saw you?" I suggested.

"You mean when you tried to get rid of me and accused me of spying on you and being worthless since laws of physics rarely applied to your cases?" she inquired seriously, though I could see she was barely suppressing a smile. I wasn't having fun, though.

"Dad, your hands are sweating," Molly noticed.

"Tell them, Mulder," Scully insisted, now genuinely serious: "You never told me," she added in a quieter voice, almost whispering.

I didn't know what to tell her. I loved her for so much longer than being in love with her, I loved her as a friend, a partner, a protector and a protégée, a teacher and a student; as the only person who believed in me, who stood by me even when the whole world turned against me; as the only person I had left… But as a woman… I never knew how to love her as a woman, and I could see in her eyes, at that moment, that she still felt taken for granted.

I was always too obsessed with other matters to give her the full attention she deserved, was it my work, my sister, my baby, my… other baby? And even though I married her and took her name, something, somehow, still wasn't enough…

I closed my eyes and felt her fingertips on my cheek.

"It's alright, Mulder," she said warmly: "I don't remember the exact moment, either."

"Do you at least remember your first kiss?" Molly asked us.

"Yes," I smiled: "Of course I do."

"Does it count on the forehead?" Scully asked for clarifications. Jesus, she was acting all scientific even about kissing!

"No," Molly giggled: "On the lips!"

"Okay," Scully smiled: "It was New Year's kiss."

"Which year?"

"Two thousand," Ahab answered. He knew the story: "They were watching it on TV and people were kissing so he kissed mom."

"Because it was on TV?" Molly was surprised.

"No," I smiled: "Because I wanted to."

"Because he was a chicken!" Ahab clarified: "He thought mom won't punch him because it was a New Year and he was hurt."

"You were hurt?" Molly looked at me worriedly.

"Yes, I hurt my arm on a case."

"What case?"

"It doesn't matter. What matters is that I kissed her and now we are living happily ever after," I concluded.

"Show me," Molly demanded.

"Show you what?" I was confused.

"Do it again. Just like the first time. I want to see it!"

"Yeah, me too!" Ahab added.

"Alright," I agreed. I carefully lowered Molly on the couch and got up, extending my arm towards Scully to pull her up with me. She blushed a little, as if it really was our first time. I smiled at her encouragingly, then I licked my lips in hungry anticipation. Her answer was a punch in my arm.

"Ouch!" I protested: "You are supposed to punch me AFTER the kiss, not before."

"I know, but I forgot to do it the first time around and I wanted to make sure I don't forget again. Besides, your arm was hurt back then as well, remember? I just want this to be authentic."

I frowned at her words, then grabbed her both cheeks with my hands and pressed my lips hard on hers. It took her by surprise and she struggled a bit, but I wouldn't let her go. I used my palms to cover us as much as I could while I trust my tongue into her mouth; the kids didn't need to see everything.

"God, Mulder," she was catching her breath when I finally released her: "That's not how it happened."

"So what?" I winked at her: "The world didn't end."

She looked at me confused for a few moments, then smiled fondly: "No, it didn't."

I smiled back, gazing into her beautiful eyes, willing her to understand that our first kiss belongs to us and only us, that there is part of us that exists outside of parenthood and our children don't need to know everything. It was ok to keep some memories just for ourselves.

Like that time when I kissed her on the forehead in the hospital hallway, after my promise to find the truth that will cure her cancer, and her promise that she would stay with me for as long as she could. Molly might say it doesn't count, but that one meant so much more to both of us than a New Year's show of affection.

Just a short while before that Scully was in another hospital, beaten up, tattooed and fucked up, unrecognizable and completely out of character. I couldn't bear to touch her and I hardly forced myself to even look at her. It was the first and only time that I was ashamed of her. I asked her why and I turned to look through the window as she told me: "I know you don't notice, Mulder, but I am a woman." I left the hospital without saying goodbye that day. I didn't understand what she meant and I didn't want to understand. I didn't want her to be a woman, I didn't want her to date and have a life outside our little private bubble that revolved around work. Only now, after kissing her passionately in front of our children, did I realize that she wanted to be a woman inside of our bubble world, not outside of it. She wanted to be a woman to me, for me, with me, not anybody else, and I was too dumb to realize it, even when she told me straight to my face.

I wrapped my arm around her and placed my hand on top of her tattoo, apologizing with my eyes. I see you Scully, my gaze whispered to her, the words that I couldn't say aloud, not in front of our children, even though they lost all interest for us and turned their attention to some television show.

She slowly nodded, looking deeply into my eyes, as if she was trying to send a telepathic message as well. I guess I didn't get it, because she finally spoke.

"You asked me to be his mother," she whispered, as if that fact alone could excuse all the ways that I wronged her over the years.

"You asked me to be her father," I whispered back, and it really felt like the only thing that mattered. We both made mistakes and we both still had so many issues with each other and with ourselves, but the most important thing we somehow managed to do right.

We made a family.


	51. On top

I'm still lying on top of him, sweaty, naked and exposed. My legs are tucked between his and my cheek is resting on his chest.

I just fucked my husband.

My therapist will be pleased.

I am terrified.

His hands are lying flat on the bed, not touching me. He probably still has his eyes closed, but I don't dare to look. I asked him not watch or I wouldn't be able to go through with it. He insisted. I did it for him.

It was my first time. Sex was always something done to me, never something I would actively participate in. Good old missionary was all I needed. It took me a long time and many sessions with specialists to finally admit to myself that I am one of those women who can't overcome the guilt and shame of enjoying an intercourse. The less I participated, the better. But even that realization wasn't as devastating as the fact that I couldn't overcome it by intellectual understanding.

I am a scientist. A doctor. I am even married, for god's sake! I should at least be able to talk to my husband about our sexual life, instead of demanding from him to keep his eyes shut and stay still until I get over with his fantasy of being on the bottom.

Why did I have to marry a porn addict? Why can't he just take what he wants, like my past lovers did, and leave me content with any amount of pleasure he's currently willing to give? Why can't he be rough like Mark, as pain makes my guilt visibly smaller? Why does he have to always push my limits and force me to explore new territories in bed just as much as he does in daily life?

And the scariest question of all: how can I ever look him in the eyes again after what I just did to him?

Did he even like it? Or did he hate it? He's still not moving, not talking, but not sleeping either. I can feel his breathing moving my body in synch with his own. His muscles are tense underneath me. He's not only awake, but he's fully alert.

What is he thinking? Is he proud of me for finally taking charge? Or is he disgusted with the way I moved, with the sounds I made? Was I too shameless? Or not shameless enough?

This is ridiculous! I should just look at him and his eyes would tell me everything. I wouldn't even have to ask. But I can't. I can't, because I'm naked and sticky with our juices after completing a proper intercourse on him, by myself, as I never even dreamed of doing.

I like to feel him on top of me. It makes me feel protected and taken care of. But to be on top is scary. As I cool off, the air is starting to feel cold on my skin. Mulder is still warm though. He smells so good. He tastes good. There isn't a single part of him that I dislike. I even enjoy the taste of his blood.

This should be normal. This IS normal, damn it! Why am I so embarrassed?

Why doesn't he hold me? Why isn't he saying anything? Do I have to be the first one to speak? If so, we will stay like this forever. It's almost morning and Molly might be up soon. William, on the other hand, will probably sleep until noon if we let him. I locked our bedroom door, but I still wouldn't like my children to come upstairs and find it locked.

Maybe I should just roll off of him and pretend this never happened. No. I can't. He deserves more than that. I deserve more.

So I just keep lying on him, unable to face him or move away from him. I'm stuck with my husband like I never was with any man before. He knows me in so many ways that no other man ever did. Being Scully is so much harder than being Dana. It is a tremendous joy, but also a terrible weight.

He must feel my tears, but he is not reacting. This is still my show, I guess. If I want a hug I'm going to have to ask for it. Fine.

"Mulder," I whisper: "Hold me, Mulder."

In an instant his arms are around me, pressing me tightly to him as I cry my heart out. It's ok now. He still likes me. We are ok. Everything is ok. And that's why I can't stop crying. I can finally afford to fall apart and there's no better place for that than Mulder's embrace.

Despite all obstacles, our marriage is working out.

Despite all odds, Molly's cancer has gone into remission. It is still there, but it noticeably shrunk, allowing her to walk and even go to school. She gets tired easily, but other than that her childhood is pretty much normal. The cancer is still far from being cured and it could return in a matter of weeks, but at least we bought some time, a valuable and quality time.

William is doing great as well. He is growing fast and I can never decide if he looks more like Mulder or my brother Bill. He is a strange combination of both of them and they are both aware of and displeased with it. One trait that he shares with both is protectiveness for his sister. I am very grateful that my children adore each other.

Our family grew even more, with Molly's fish and Ahab's cat Lily that he wanted for so long. I would prefer a dog, but it's nice to have a little bundle of fur around, no matter the species. She doesn't spend much time in the house though, as the beautiful nature all around us is always calling her.

I cry because with Mulder I can, but those are now tears of joy. I can finally raise my head and look him in the eyes and I see nothing but love in them. I smile and he smiles back. There are no words because we don't need words, not now. We just made love in a way that we never managed before. It's a small victory in a relationship full of big defeats, but when you have many small victories you can handle the tough times as well.

The sunrise is finding its way through our window, making my husband's face more radiant and warming my body, washing away the last traces of my shame.

A new day has begun.


	52. Father and son

With Molly getting better I was able to take my kids on all kind of adventures. Molly was restless and so thirsty for the world, after being bedridden for so long. Whether it was a zoo, an amusement park, or a simple coffee shop, she was amazed and grateful as if I had given her the whole world.

William didn't always want to go with us, but when he did he made sure we get to know everybody we came in contact with.

"Hi, I'm William Scully," he would introduce himself first, then the rest of us: "This is my sister Molly Mulder and my father Mulder Scully."

Molly and I would smile shyly at each other, while William went on explaining this unusual introduction.

"My sister thinks Mulder goes better with her first name, but she is Scully too."

"My dad doesn't use his first name."

Sometimes, it would get weird and I had to pull him away and run to find a hole to bury myself in: "Molly was adopted and I was conceived unnaturally."

"Dad takes care of us while mom is in hospital with her ex-boyfriend."

"My mom got pregnant after aliens killed my dad, but now we are all alive."

It got him strangers' attention, alright! He never had a trouble with initiating conversations. In fact, when it comes to breaking the ice my son is a freaking global warming! I tried to explain it to him that some things are private and shouldn't be discussed with everybody, but he just doesn't get the concept.

He was starting to think that I don't understand anything as well. Approaching puberty, he finally realized that his cool dad may not be as cool as he thought.

On the other hand, mom was still cool, so maybe there was something besides hormones that was pulling him away from me, and I wasn't able to pinpoint what exactly. I started to observe him more carefully, as well as search for new activities we could enjoy together, but he kept brushing me off.

"Look William," I showed him a new rocket one day when he returned from school. Building rockets was something we both enjoyed, something that belonged only to the two of us. I put a lot of time and effort in designing this new model, but William refused to even look at it.

"Why don't you go build a dollhouse with Molly and leave me alone?" he suggested while walking past me, and my heart sunk with his words. I swallowed my disappointment and followed him to his room. My profiling skills failed me like they usually do when it comes to my family, so I had no choice but to resort to direct approach.

"Alright, what's wrong?" I asked him from his bedroom door, staying outside as a show of respect towards his personal space. I didn't want to approach him as an authoritative figure, but first and foremost as his friend.

William sighed and sat on his bed, looking at me warily: "Nothing's wrong. Can you leave now? I have homework to do."

"I want to talk to you," I insisted: "Can I come in?"

He thought about it for a moment, then agreed, but not without rolling his eyes on me: "Fine."

I closed the door behind me and joined him on the bed, still holding a rocket: "Why won't you look at it? It took me a long time to make this one, and I was hoping we would set it off together."

"I'm not a little kid anymore," he said flatly: "Why don't you go play with Molly?"

There it was again. Molly. Why was he repeatedly sending me to Molly? Could it be that he was jealous? But why? He adored his little sister. I had to get to the bottom of whatever it was that bothered him.

"You know, William," I started with the most common approach, while I figure out something smarter to say: "Just because we now have Molly it doesn't mean we love you any less."

"I know," he said after a moment of hesitation, then added so quietly that I barely heard him: "At least mom doesn't."

Oh boy! I was in trouble.

"William," I sighed: "There's no reason to be jealous."

I wasn't doing well with this conversation, but I wasn't going to give up. If he could talk about his issues with complete strangers without a hint of shame, then he could as well talk to his damn father.

"Do you have any idea what I've been through to get you?" I challenged him.

"Then why did you search for mom to give me away?" he accused me.

Oh god.

"I wasn't trying to get rid of you!" I snapped: "I wanted you to have a mother!"

"Because you didn't want to keep me?"

"Because it was the right thing to do. I wanted you more than anything in the world, but that didn't give me the right to separate you from your mother."

"And if I was a girl? Would you want to keep me then?"

What?

Wait, what?

What the hell?

"I don't… What are you talking about?"

"You wanted a girl, didn't you?"

"Who told you that?"

"Molly."

"What… ?"

"She said you told her you always wanted a daughter."

"William…"

"If it's not true, why did you tell her that?"

"It is. I did. I wanted a daughter, but it doesn't mean I didn't want a son."

"Were you mad because I wasn't a daughter?"

God, I was! But I couldn't tell him that. I wasn't myself back then and I did a lot of things that I will regret for the rest of my life. I owed him the truth about that time, but he was still too young to hear it.

"I was… afraid," I finally said. It wasn't the whole truth, but it wasn't a lie either.

"Afraid," he repeated to himself, rolling his eyes again.

"I am not making much sense to you, do I?" I asked him.

He shook his head: "No."

"That's what I was afraid of."

"Dad, that's stupid!" William objected: "You could not make sense to a daughter, also! What's the difference?"

"The difference is… I don't have to teach Molly how to be a woman. I don't get to compare myself with her, like I can do with you, and you can do with me. I should be a model to you and I don't know… If I can do it right."

"Why not?"

"Because I never seem to do anything right. I am afraid of failing you, son, especially you. You are already a bigger man than I will ever be."

"Does that mean I get to teach you?" he was suddenly excited, happy. Bless him.

"You teach me every day," I smiled, meaning every word.

"I want more! Will you listen to me?"

"It depends," I laughed: "What do you want to teach me?"

"To do more adult stuff," he said seriously.

"What 'adult stuff'?"

"I don't know. Maybe you could clean around house more."

"What's the point? Your mom will clean after me anyway."

"Ok, then… Have you ever played golf?"

"Golf?"

"Yes, Sean's dad plays it all the time! Maybe you would like it too."

"I highly doubt it."

"Fine. How about… Have you ever watched porn?"

"What?!"

"You know, those videos with naked adults…"

"I know what porn is, William, but I don't like to hear that you do."

"Dad, everybody knows what porn is!"

"Well, you shouldn't. You are too young for that."

"But you aren't."

"Why do you want me to watch something like that?"

"I don't. Only if you like it. Do you?"

I had to change the subject. Urgently! I wasn't ready for that conversation and I doubted I would ever be.

"Why do you want me to do more adult stuff?"

"Because you're an adult. I like when you hang out with Molly and me, but I don't like it all the time."

"You want more alone time with Molly," I finally understood.

"Dad… I know you miss your sister, but Molly is not Samantha. Molly is MY sister! And she will not disappear if you go in another room from time to time. You will still be close enough if bad people come to hurt us. Not that anybody ever bothers to come here. It's too far away even for aliens."

I felt a tear escape me at the same time as a chuckle. William can do that to you, make you cry and laugh at the same time, for all the right reasons. He observed me tensely, not sure how to take my reaction.

"Are you mad at me?" he finally asked, with worry filling his face.

"No," I smiled, barely holding back another tear: "No, of course not... You are right, I miss my sister, but… I won't let that come between you and Molly, I promise."

"Thank you, dad," he wrapped his arms around my neck: "I love you."

"I love you too, William. Don't ever doubt that again."


	53. Premonitions

Bill's hand on my cheek woke me up and I stared at his tired face feeling a bit disorientated until he finally spoke: "Mom, are you awake?"

"Yeah," I answered, pulling myself up into a sitting position and glancing at the clock: "What time is it?"

"I don't even know," he sighed: "This has got to stop, mom. I'm taking you to the doctor tomorrow."

"It was just a nightmare, Bill," I objected: "I'm fine."

"You don't know that for sure," he shook his head: "You are not getting younger. In your age, anything can go wrong."

"I'm fine, Bill," I repeated: "Go back to sleep."

He looked at me warily for a moment, then he sighed and leaned down to kiss me: "Okay, mom. We'll talk tomorrow. Good night."

I got up as soon as he left my room and started pacing around. I didn't want to go back to sleep, afraid that the nightmare would return. I've been having those dreams for a few days, but I didn't remember them after waking up by myself.

This time, I was woken up by my son, in the middle of the dream. This time I remembered.

It was so real. Too real for a dream. Whenever I had one of those, something bad happened afterwards. I couldn't tell that to Bill. He doesn't believe in premonitions. Besides, he always gets upset when Melissa is mentioned…

Missy, my baby! My first daughter. The permanently empty space in my heart…

For a while, she was all I could think about. I sat back on the bed and took her picture from my nightstand, washing it with my tears. My desire to hug her, touch her, feel her was unbearable. She was so real in my dream, beautiful and vibrant as always, so close yet so far, just outside my reach. She spoke to me! It wasn't my memory of her voice, but her genuine voice. She was here and she talked to me. She told me… She said…

"Mom. She needs your help. She needs you, mom. Go to her."

Missy… I'm here, baby. Your mom is here. I miss you so much…

As my tears slowed down my brain finally started to register her words. She was trying to warn me. But warn about what?

 _She needs you, mom._

Dana! It occurred to me that she could've only been talking about Dana. I wanted to call my second daughter immediately, but it was too early and she wouldn't believe me anyway. Dana doesn't believe in that kind of things.

But, Fox… Fox would believe me. Even if he doesn't, he would be polite enough to listen to me. And it wasn't so early in their time zone, anyway. I wanted to call him right away, but I knew better than to do that. Bill would definitely hear me and make a scene out of it. He always does. He will have to go to work soon anyway, and I will have privacy to talk to my son in law then.

I lied back down, thinking about Dana. What kind of danger was she in now? My poor child had been through much more than seems humanly possible to endure. Yet, she always pulled through, growing even stronger than before. Things seemed to be working well for her lately, so well, in fact, that it looked like her luck finally turned around.

 _She needs your help._

Oh Missy, how I wish you were just a dream this time!

I made an effort to smile and make small talk during breakfast. I didn't want Bill to worry about me any more than he already did. He's been working a lot lately, and he was already losing sleep because of me. I could talk to him later, after he comes back from work and after I've talked to Fox and hopefully found out more about what's going on with Dana.

As soon as everybody left I was on the phone.

"Hi mom," Dana answered.

"Dana aren't you supposed to be at work?" I couldn't hide the worry in my voice. Is she sick? Is it cancer? No, please God, no, not again!

"I'm working a night shift today," she answered.

"Oh," I was relieved.

"Is everything okay, mom?" she probably sensed something was wrong.

"Yes, we are all fine," I said, and added holding my breath: "How about you?"

"We are great," she sounded sincere, but Melissa's voice still echoed in my head.

"Listen Dana, is Fox there?" I decided to get to the point: "I want to ask him something."

"No, he went to the store. Kids are in school, it's just me in here, enjoying a little peace and quiet."

"Oh. Well, you take it easy Dana. I'll call back later."

"You can try his cellphone, mom."

"No, that's not necessary. It was nice to hear you."

"You too, mom."

I hung up the phone, trying to convince myself that I just imagined Melissa and her warning. Dana sounded fine, but then again, she is very skilled at hiding her real feelings. I had to talk to Fox, but that would have to wait. I never got around to understand mobile phones and unless it was an emergency I preferred to keep away from them. Besides, it was wise to take some time to figure out exactly what to tell my son in law. If I couldn't convince him of the importance of Melissa's message, then I will be left all alone in this.

Oh Missy, why didn't you give me more information? Or maybe you did in all those dreams that I can't remember? Did Bill wake me up too soon? But if he didn't, would I remember anything at all?

The afternoon came and I wasn't any smarter. I figured I should just make a call and Fox will know what to do next. I dialed their home number again, and this time Ahab answered.

"Molly! It's grandma!" I could hear him yell, away from the headphone. I smiled at his enthusiasm. Not because he's my grandson, but he's a great child.

"Grandma, guess what," he was back with me in an instant: "I'm in love!"

"Oh," I chuckled, amused: "Who is the lucky girl?"

"Her name is Diana," he said proudly: "And she's the prettiest girl in the world!"

"Did you tell her that?" I wondered.

"Yes! I asked her to be my girlfriend!"

"Oh! What did she say?"

"She said I'm too young for her. And too short."

"How old is she?"

"She's three months older than me. But that's not too much, is it?"

"No, it isn't."

"So, maybe if I grow taller she would change her mind? Do you think so, grandma?" he asked pleadingly, as if I could talk that girl into loving him back. I enjoyed giving him love advices, it made me feel young again. Mathew never shared personal thoughts like that with me, constantly frowning at my questions and advices. But Ahab, he was always like an open book, honest and not ashamed of anything. His parents liked to keep me in the dark, but Ahab informed me about anything that went on between them, at least about everything he knew of happening. Judging by his first-crush enthusiasm, nothing was bothering that boy. Yet, I didn't allow myself to feel relief, not yet. I had to check with Fox .

To get to Fox, though, I had to pass through Molly first.

"Hi grandma," she said shyly after Ahab passed her the phone and went to get his father.

"Hi honey. How are you doing?"

"Good," her answer was short.

"Are you getting along with your brother?"

"Yes."

"Do you listen to your parents?"

"Yes."

"That's good to hear, honey."

"Dad is here. He wants to talk to you."

"Alright, put him on. It was nice talking to you."

"You too. Bye."

"Bye, honey."

"Hello, Mrs. Scully," I heard my son is law's warm voice.

"Hello, Fox."

He basically told me the same as the rest of his family did. He is fine. Everybody's fine. I told him about my dream and he said not to worry, that the dream is sometimes just a dream. He wouldn't let anybody hurt Dana or the kids. He wouldn't let anything bad happen to them. If something did happen, though, I would be the first person he'd call.

I was relieved to hear nothing's wrong, but I couldn't just dismiss Melissa's warning. She wouldn't come to me for nothing. That night, and the following nights, the dreams were back. Bill was too light of a sleeper for me to be able to hide them from him, and finally he and Tara convinced me to let them take me to a doctor. We were all relieved when the specialists couldn't find anything wrong with me. I knew dreams came from Melissa and not from some illness, but, as Bill pointed out, I wasn't young anymore and in my age anything could be fatal, if they did find something wrong me.

"I'm glad you're okay, mom," Bill told me before dinner: "Because I have news for all of you."

Mathew looked at him puzzled, but Tara just nodded knowingly, showing that she was already aware of what he was going to say.

"I got a job offer," Bill continued: "In Europe. Germany."

"We are moving to Germany?" Mathew asked. It was hard to tell if he was excited or disappointed by the news.

"Yes," Tara said: "In less than a year."

"But… What about my school? My friends?"

"You will go to school there," Bill explained: "But you will be off to college soon, and if you want to return here to study, we will support you."

"Okay," Mathew agreed after thinking about it for a few moments. I would go talk to him in private later, to see how he really feels about this. I know he wouldn't openly defy his father.

Bill nodded to his son then turned to me, but I spoke before he could say anything: "I'm not going."

"We would love to take you with us," Tara said earnestly.

"Thank you, Tara, but I'm not going," I repeated: "My life is here."

"Mom," Bill said: "I can't just leave you alone."

"I won't be alone," I assured him: "I can go back to Washington."

"Just think about it," Tara pleaded and I promised her that I would, though I knew very well my decision will not change. I didn't want them to leave and I knew I will miss them terribly. But my life was in this country, my parents, husband and daughter buried here. My living daughter was here, and even my estranged son was somewhere out there… I was too old to start over, anyway, even if I wanted to.

Most of all, it's what Melissa wanted. _Go to her_ , she said and I finally realized what she meant. She wanted me to go to Washington instead of Germany. I got the message.

As a confirmation, the dreams stopped.


	54. Just a memory

It all started with a cat.

Mom drove all the way to our house just to check on me. She didn't say anything at first, but when I told her that William's cat went missing two days ago she wasn't able to hide her worry. I pushed her to open up to me, but when she finally did I wished I kept my mouth shut.

She spoke about my deceased sister coming to her dreams, warning her about incoming danger. Me being the key figure in that danger, of course. Darkness has a way of following me even in my mother's dreams as it seems.

"Bill warned me you might start acting strange," I told her: "You had the same nightmares in San Diego, didn't you?"

"Yes," mom confirmed: "They stopped when I decided to come back to Washington, but now they are back. She is trying to warn me."

"What does she say to you?"

"She tells me: _Go to her. She needs your help._ "

"She doesn't say my name?"

"No."

"Then how do you know she is talking about me?"

"I just know. Who else could it be?"

"Mom," I sighed: "Do you remember Emily? My Emily?"

"Oh Dana, of course I do!"

"Do you remember how I found her?"

"You got a call. From… Mellisa."

"I got a call from _someone_ who _sounded_ like Melissa," I corrected her: "She told me exactly the same thing that you hear in your dream. You know that, mom. I told you all about it. Your dream is a memory, not a premonition."

"But…"

"It's just a memory, mom."

"But with Emily… Oh god! Dana, do you… Do you think this might be about Molly?"

"Jesus mother! Molly is fine! Will you stop dooming my family, please!"

"Okay. I'm sorry. Where is she now?"

"I already told you, she's looking for the cat. They all are."

"The cat! That can't be a good sign!"

"It's not a sign, mom. Cats get lost all the time. Maybe that's who Missy was referring to, maybe she wanted you to save my cat," I suggested.

"Don't make fun of me Dana."

"I'm not making fun of you. Missy loved cats, didn't she?"

"Oh yes, she did!" mom smiled fondly: "She adored cats. Never settled for just one! She claimed cats can help us connect with spiritual realms or something..."

I smiled, remembering anecdotes from my sister's life. Soon, we were both lost in memories, reminiscing in good old days, when we still had dad, Missy and Charlie, and Bill wasn't so far away. Time wasn't easy on our family and we weren't easy on each other, but our bonds stayed unbreakable, even by distance or death. I was glad to be able to distract mom from her premonitions, even if I had to drag my poor cat into it. Older people sometimes don't listen to reason. Sisters neither. Nor husbands for that matter. Sometimes I wonder if anybody does…

Sometimes, the reason itself doesn't listen to itself. I guess I'm referring to God, because…

My cat didn't come home.

My daughter didn't return either.

I don't remember the details of what followed, how William emerged from woods running and yelling, desperately calling for me; how I rushed from the house in my slippers and followed him; how Mulder was kneeling on the ground and holding Molly while the strong, wild seizures shook her little body; how I checked her vital signs over and over again…

The memories are all shattered and fuzzy, like pieces of puzzle that should fit together but are too damaged to slide into each other, leaving instead small gaps and cracks between them.

I cursed Mulder all the way to the hospital for buying the house in the middle of nowhere so far away from the nearest ER, but I don't remember if I blamed him silently or if I said it out loud.

"Don't worry mom," Molly whispered when she came through in the car: "I saw my aunt. She said she will take care of me."

"Tara is in Europe," I gently reminded her: "You couldn't have seen her."

"No, not that aunt," Molly smiled: "The other one. The one who died."

Mulder turned towards us with a meaningful gaze.

"Keep your eyes on the road!" I warned him. Great job, partner! Congratulations on passing your obsession with Samantha onto our daughter! So much so, in fact, that she believes she can see her!

"Dead people can't talk, honey," I explained to Molly, gently stroking her hair.

"I know," Molly answered weakly: "But she could."

"Okay," I said, leaning down to kiss her in the forehead. I caught myself praying to Samantha in that moment, begging her not take my daughter from me.

"Take the cat, Sam," I begged in my head, at least I hope it was only in my head and never left my mouth: "Take the cat, not the child."

I should have been thinking about hospital tests and procedures that needed to be done on Molly, but I was only able to think about Samantha being Molly's age when she disappeared. Not even an hour ago I scolded my mother for losing her mind, and now I was losing it myself.

Molly's condition seemed stable enough to skip the nearest hospital and go to mine, where her doctors are familiar with her history and can check her out faster and more efficient. They wanted me to stay with the rest of the family and wait, but that was out of question. I wasn't going to leave her alone. I held her hand before each test, and held the results afterwards. Somewhere along the way, I don't know how or when, Mark joined me.

"Dana," his eyes were filled with tears, but not mine, mine were numb: "I'm sorry Dana… I'm so sorry."

"I have to tell them," I said, not so much to Mark as to the CT scan in my hand. The picture I held gave no hope, no room for miracles, no second chances…

"Let her doctors tell them," Mark said.

"No," I refused: "It's my duty."

"Dana, please. Don't do this. You're a mother now, not a doctor. I will tell them for you."

I shook my head. Repeatedly. I couldn't let him be the one to bring the bad news. It was my responsibility, my penance for forgetting what I'm dealing with, for letting myself believe I can gamble this cancer and win Molly's life. I did allow Mark to walk me to the waiting room though, since I needed help with keeping my balance. The world danced around me and there was no such thing as solid ground.

There was no justice.

There was no God.

There was nothing, nothing at all, as I stood there telling my family that our daughter, sister and granddaughter has only few weeks left to live. Maybe a month. No more.

There was nothing.

Then there was only pain. Deep, devastating, unbearable pain.


	55. Best sibling in the world

"Molly, wake up," I hear my brother's voice, somewhere in the distance. I don't know where he is. I don't know how to wake up.

"Molly, please, wake up!" he's shaking my arm now: "Don't be dead, Molly, please!"

"I'm not dead," I say. I can hardly open my eyes and look at him. The pounding in my head is unbearable. I want to go back to my aunt.

"Soon," she says: "Soon you'll join me and all your pain will be over."

She's smiling at me. I want to touch her hair, it looks just like mom's.

"Molly, stay awake!" It's William again.

"It's so hard," I tell him.

"I know," he explains: "It's your meds, they are making you sleep. But I don't want you to sleep."

"Why?"

"Because I'm afraid you'll die if you sleep."

"I am not going to die."

"Mom says you are. Soon. But I'm not supposed to tell you that."

"I don't want to die," I tell him. I just want to sleep. It doesn't hurt when I sleep.

"Am I going to die?" I ask my aunt. She hugs me and I'm happy. She won't let anything bad happen to me, I know it.

"Listen to your brother now," she whispers and the pain is back.

"We found Lily," he is talking about his cat: "She is dead."

"No…" I am crying now: "It's not fair."

"And now you are dying too," William is crying as well.

"Why? Why do I have to die?"

"Your cancer is too big now. Mom says they can't do anything for you anymore."

"I'm afraid!" I run to my aunt: "I'm afraid, I'm so afraid!"

"I know, darling," she comforts me: "But it won't take long. It won't hurt, at least no more than it does now. It will be all over soon. I will be with you all the time."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

"Molly!" William is calling me back: "Don't go back to sleep!"

"I'm sorry. It's so hard to stay awake."

"Are you mad at me for telling you?" he is worried.

"No," I assure him: "Not mad. But I'm afraid."

"Me too. I don't want to lose you."

"I love you William. I will always be with you."

"Just like I'm always there for my baby brother," my aunt is smiling: "We share the same special connection like you and William do. Death can't destroy that kind of connection. Nothing can."

"What about my parents?" I ask her.

"You will always be with them, as well. But it might be harder for them to feel you. It won't be hard with William. You two will always know how to find each other."

"Do you promise?" William is asking me.

"I promise," I assure him.

"How will I know?" he is wondering. I am wondering too.

"We will find a way," I tell him: "Just don't forget me."

"Never! You are the best sister in the whole world and I will never ever forget you!"

"Do you promise?" We promise a lot to each other, but we never broke any of the promises.

"I promise! I swear! I will love you forever! More than dad loves Samantha!"

"That's not possible," I would smile if it didn't hurt so much.

"Of course it's possible. I already do."

"You promise?"

"I promise!"

"Will you take care of my fish?"

"Will you take care of my cat?"

"I don't know. Do people and cats go to the same place when they die?"

"I don't know. But if they don't, maybe you can still go to the place for cats and visit her there…"

"Maybe. I'll try. I promise."

"Me too."

"I still want to live," I say to my aunt.

"I know. I wanted it too. But it's not ours to decide. When the time comes, we all have to go."

"Molly," William is kissing me and I feel his tears on my cheek. He is wrapping his arms around me, trying to hug me without lifting me from the bed, without hurting me. I try to hug him back, though my arms are so heavy and every movement hurts.

"I love you Molly."

"I love you too, William. You are the best brother in the whole world."

"Do you promise?"

"I promise."


	56. Broken

Molly didn't stay long in the hospital, only for a few days. When her doctors said there's nothing to be done, I decided to take her home.

Scully was not happy with my decision, but I insisted on it. I didn't want Molly to spend her last days in the ugly, sterile hospital; I wanted her to sleep in her pink room, surrounded by her dolls, fish and her family.

"She needs proper care," Scully told me: "She's in a lot of pain."

"I will take care of her," I reminded her: "As I always do."

"Mulder, you're not a doctor."

"No, but you are. You'll be there with me, won't you?"

"I work here. She'll be closer to me if she stays here."

"Well, I thought you will be taking time off work."

"I can't take a month off!"

"Why? Our daughter is dying, and all you worry about is work?" I was getting furious.

"I HAVE to work," she insisted: "I have to do SOMETHING in order to survive this. I can't just sit and watch her die."

"So you'll rather lock her in the hospital room to be out of your sight?"

"Mulder! How can you even say such a thing?"

"Scully… I'm sorry. I just… I'm not prepared for this."

"We knew, Mulder, we knew from beginning."

"I thought… I believed she was pulling through."

"She was. She really was."

"Then how did this happen? How could this happen? What had we done wrong?"

"I…"

"What the fuck did we do wrong?!"

"I don't! Know!"

"What good is your science, Scully? What good is your medicine for? Our daughter is dying and all you can do is explain why?! What good is your fucking god!"

"And what good is your love? Your passion, your belief! Why wasn't that enough?!"

"Dana, please," Mark joined us in his office: "Fox, calm down."

"Don't call me that!"

"Okay. Fine. Mulder."

"Stay out of this, Mark," Scully told him warily.

"I'm just trying to help," he said calmly. I hated him at that moment. I hated him more than I did when he fucked my woman in my bed. The world was falling apart yet he was as calm and composed as ever. What kind of man can do that?

"Fuck off!" I told him, but it didn't produce even a hint of anger in his eyes.

"I know how hard this is…" he started, but Scully cut him off.

"How could you possibly know!" she yelled: "Have you ever buried a daughter? Have any of you?!"

"You wouldn't let me," I answered her, Mark suddenly forgotten.

"Emily wasn't yours!"

"Molly is. You can't send me away this time."

Scully opened her mouth to answer me, but she changed her mind and closed them again.

"William is alone with Molly," she turned to Mark: "Would you go check on them?"

Mark hesitated, but finally nodded and left.

Scully and I stared at each other. The storm was rampaging between us, but we didn't say a word. We had so much to say but there was no point to it. We were better at suppressing our true feelings, even now when their fire burned all around us. Especially now.

It left us in ashes.

When the storm passed, Scully was the first to speak.

"Is this going to destroy us, Mulder?"

"I don't know," I said. There was nothing else to say. Either way, I didn't care. She didn't care. I saw it in her eyes. We watched each other like strangers and we were both too broken to even mind.

"Do you regret it?" she asked me.

"Which part?"

"Adoption. Marriage. Any of it."

"No. Do you?"

"No."

We returned to the silence again, gathering our composures. This wasn't about us, it was about Molly. We had to be strong for her, even if we weren't capable for anything else. We had to go on living, at least on the outside.

"I'll go talk to her doctors," Scully finally spoke: "You can take her home."

"What about you?"

"I'll rearrange my schedule. See where I can forward my patients. Take… a month off."

"Thank you," I nodded.

"So that's it, Mulder? We are just giving up on Molly?"

"No. We are simply… letting her go."

"Like we gave up on Emily?"

"Yeah… Like Emily…"

"But we didn't have a choice then."

"We still don't."

Scully turned to walk away, but when her hand reached the door knob she stopped and sighed heavily.

"Mulder," she asked with a fear in her voice: "What happens after a month?"

I didn't have an answer to that. What could happen after then world ends? There was no after.

It didn't take a month, though. It didn't even take a week. Molly was back home for barely a day and Scully was still at work, getting her affairs in order. William was at school, so Molly and me were alone in the house, alone in the world. I lied with her in her bed, holding her tightly after a particularly strong seizure.

She spoke about her aunt earlier that day, before the convulsions started. Scully thought she imagined Samantha, but I knew it was actually Melissa. I believed it was more than an imagination, too. Scully's sister had a way to communicate with the other side while she was alive, so I had no doubt she could communicate from the other side as well. She helped me reach Scully while she lied in her coma and bring her back to us, and I prayed to her to help me with my daughter, too.

"Tell her," I could almost hear Melissa's voice in my head: "Tell her how you feel."

So I did.

When Molly's body finally stilled, I stroked her hair while whispering to her: "I feel… Molly… that… You are ready to go… Go in peace… my beautiful daughter… One day… we will be together… again…"

Her body jerked violently once more and she gasped in pain, fighting for her breath.

"I'm afraid, daddy, I'm afraid," she spoke her last words and I hugged her tighter, closer, telling her: "I'm here, princess, I'm here," over and over again.

I felt her shaky breath on my chest and our hearts beating in unison next to each other.

Until there was only my heart left.

Broken.


	57. Walter

"Excuse me," I said and left the room, followed by judgmental looks. It wasn't appropriate for Assistant Director to leave important meeting in order to answer his private phone, but if one of Scullys called these days I would drop everything else. That's what I promised them. That's what I did for them.

"Skinner," I answered.

There was no response.

"William?" I tried again: "What is it, son?"

"Please come and get me," he finally spoke.

"Where are you?"

"At school."

"What happened?"

"Will you come?"

"William, what happened?"

"I think… I think Molly's dead."

"Who told you that?"

"Nobody. I saw her. She was here, but not really here. Then she was gone. She came to say goodbye."

"Where are your parents?"

"Will you please come?"

"William…"

"Please…"

"I'm coming, son, I'm coming."

I looked at the clock. The meeting should last at least another half an hour. I couldn't let him wait that long. Whatever he saw or thinks he saw, he was clearly very upset.

"I have to go," I told my secretary: "I don't know if I'll be coming back today."

"Sir, wait!" she was surprised: "What about your meeting?"

"Tell them it's a family emergency."

I tried to call Mulder on my way to William's school, but there was no answer. Not on his cellphone and not on the house phone. Every empty ring sounded louder than the previous one and I was getting more and more worried with each of them.

She couldn't already be dead, could she? It was too soon. Too damn soon!

I shook my head fiercely, irritated with my thoughts. Too soon? As if one more month wouldn't have been too soon! As if any child's death could possibly NOT come too soon.

I tried Scully's cellphone next. She answered on a first ring.

"Scully, where are you?" I wasn't wasting any more time.

"In the hospital. What's going on?"

"Where is Mulder?"

"At home, with Molly."

There was no easy way to say this: "He's not answering his phone."

"He's probably busy with Molly. Try again in a little while."

"Dana, I'm coming to get you. I'll pick up William first and take you both home."

"Sir! What's going on?"

"William called me. He's worried and now I'm worried too."

"Mulder would call me if…" she wasn't able to finish the sentence.

"I'm sure he would. Just try to reach him. I'll be there soon."

Few minutes later I pulled up my car in front of William's school. He was sitting on the front steps, looking somewhere in the distance.

"William!" I called him. He jumped and run into my embrace.

"I'm sorry, I know you are busy, but I couldn't stay in school," he was talking very fast and quite desperately: "I couldn't call my parents, they can't leave Molly, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, don't be mad at me…"

"William, it's ok," I tried to assure him: "I'm not mad. It's ok."

He stopped talking, but began to sob hard in my arms.

"I will never see her again," he cried and I couldn't think of anything comforting to say to him. I wanted to cry myself.

'Scully, I have to get Scully,' my mind reminded me as I held her son and I switched on auto pilot. I couldn't afford to think about anything but the task ahead of me. I couldn't afford to feel.

My auto pilot put William in my car and drove us to the hospital. Scully was already outside, waiting for me.

"I can't reach him either," she said, barely controlling a panic attack. I nodded and touched her arm in an empty attempt to calm her a bit: "Get in the car. I'm taking you home."

She nodded but didn't move.

"What if she's…" she whispered but didn't finish. Her legs suddenly gave up on her, but I was close enough to catch her.

"Mom!" William yelled, running towards us. Seeing him, Scully pulled herself together. For him. Only for him. She was now on auto pilot as well.

William didn't tell her about his vision. Nobody said anything as I drove us to their house. We hoped, maybe prayed. But we knew it was all in vain.

The house was cold and deadly silent. Scully rushed to Molly's room and I took William to the living room where I sat with him on the couch and held his hand.

"Lily is dead," he suddenly spoke. His words sounded strange and foreign, almost as if they didn't belong to this house, nor to this child.

"What happened to her?" I heard my voice, but it sounded like it was coming from a distance, like it didn't belong to me, nor to this moment.

"I don't know," William shrugged: "We just found her dead."

There we were, sitting on his couch and talking about his cat while awaiting news of his sister. It was bizarre how normal the situation seemed, while being anything but.

Finally, and soundlessly, Mulder appeared on the door.

"She's gone," he said. Simply, emotionlessly. Another auto pilot.

William pulled his hand abruptly from mine and throw himself on the floor, screaming. Before I had a chance to react Mulder came closer and kneeled between us, taking his son in his arms.

"I'm sorry," I finally managed to say, but it came out wrong. Everything was wrong.

Mulder looked in my direction, but he wasn't looking at me, or even through me. It was more like he was looking into death itself. It gave me chills. I felt relieved when he finally closed his eyes and started to rock with his son.

Slowly, not to disturb them, I got up and went to Molly's room. She was lying in her bed, surrounded by her stuffed toys and dolls, finally in peace. Scully was sitting on the bed next to her, just watching her, as if she was trying to remember every detail of this timeless moment.

I crouched before them and placed my hand on Scully's, repeating those useless words: "I'm sorry."

She didn't respond, didn't look at me, didn't even move; as if she was herself frozen in time.

I didn't know what to do, where to look, but then I noticed Walter amongst Molly's toys, stuffed whale that I gave her for her birthday. I picked him up and smiled fondly at the memory. She named him after me saying that he reminded her of me.

"Why?" I asked her.

"Because he's bold," she giggled: "Like you are."

"I am not bold!" I feigned being insulted, which made her giggle more. Soon, I was on my knees in front of her, with my head bent so that she could count the hair on it.

"How many?" I asked her, but she giggled too much to be able to count properly.

Next thing I knew, she made me count her hair. Her soft, shiny hair. I touched it now, and it still felt so alive. I remembered reading somewhere that hair continues to grow for some time after you die.

Oh Molly…

Rest in peace, my little friend.

"I wasn't here," Scully's bitter voice cut through the silence: "I wasn't here for her."

"There's nothing you could have done," I said to her.

"I didn't even get to say goodbye," her voice broke, but she didn't cry. She just sat there, as if she'll never get to get up again.

"Can you call my mother?" she asked me after a few moments.

"Sure," I sighed. My legs were starting to hurt in this position and I wasn't of any use to her here anyway. I gently returned Walter to his place on the bed before I got up.

Walter.

Molly was the only one in this family that called me by my first name.

I touched her cold cheek once, then I touched Scully's warm one.

"I'll be in the hall," I said and Scully nodded, not looking at me at all.

With that I left the pink princess's room and closed the door behind me. I reached for my cellphone in my pocket and dialed first of many numbers that I will have to call today.

"Mrs. Scully, hi, it's Walter Skinner…"


	58. Mother and daughter

Thousands thoughts rushed through my head as I entered Molly's room. Thousands possibilities, and none of them offered any hope.

I feared I will never see them again, both Mulder and Molly. Somehow, my brain came up with the idea that the most plausible explanation for the silent house and unanswered phone calls was that they vanished into the thin air, forever and without a trace.

Kind of like Samantha.

I was stunned to find them both in a room, Molly lying on her back in the bed and Mulder arranging the toys around her. The scene was surreal.

"Mulder…" I gasped, barely remembering his name. He turned to look at me and for a moment I thought I'm looking at the shape shifter, not my real husband. Something was different about him, something more… broken than usual.

"She's gone, Scully," he stated.

"Get away from her," I ordered and he retreated without another word.

I was in a doctor mode now, just doing my job. Not a mother, a doctor. No mother should ever have to declare her daughter's death.

"Why didn't you call me?" I finally asked my husband, not looking at him.

"I was going to," he answered sheepishly.

"When?" my voice was cold, but not cold enough. Not nearly as cold as my heart.

"Scully, you are the first one I would've called."

"When?" I snapped: "After the funeral?"

I wanted to yell and scream at him, but kept my voice low because of Molly. I wished I still worked for the FBI and had access to a service weapon so that I could shot him again. I was overcome with rage.

"She's been dead for at least two hours," I approached him now and he grew smaller under my gaze: "Why THE FUCK didn't you call me?"

My hand immediately went to my mouth, in a horror caused by my own words. I silently cursed Mulder for making me talk like that. It wasn't acceptable. Not now. Not here. Not in front of Molly.

"I…" Mulder fought for words: "I didn't know… it's been that… long."

"Why didn't you answer the phone?"

"The phone? I didn't… hear … the phone…"

I couldn't listen to him anymore. I couldn't look at him. I turned my back at him and went back to Molly.

"Get out," I told him as I sat on the bed.

"Scully…"

"I said get out!"

I closed my eyes and listened to his quiet footsteps, then the sound of door closing behind him. It was only Molly and me now. Only me, that is. My daughter was gone.

There was still so much I wanted to tell her and now I will never get a chance to. Mulder took that away from me. If Molly stayed in the hospital I could have been there with her. She could have been an organ donor. Maybe her death would have some meaning if somebody else lived thanks to her.

I was desperately searching for a meaning.

There was none.

Skinner came in the room, but I sent him away too. I wanted to be alone with my child. I didn't talk to her, didn't touch her. I didn't even cry. It was too late for all that. There was no use.

I just wanted to be with her.

It took me a while to register crying from the living room.

Ahab!

No, William.

My son.

Molly's brother.

I was still somebody's mother.

I had to…

For him…

I…

Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God…

He knows!

And I'm not with him!

Just like I wasn't with Molly…

I couldn't get there fast enough. Molly's room didn't use to be so far away from living room…

From living…

Living…

Dying…

Molly's dying room…

From our living…

Dying…

Molly is dead…

Dead, dead, dead…

"Scully!" Skinner caught me before I realized I was falling.

"I'm fine," I informed him, grateful for his touch, but not having time for that.

I had to find my living room, had to find my son.

He is my only child now…

"Molly, Molly, Molly…" William's cries echoed my thoughts. I practically ripped him from his father's embrace. No, you don't Mulder! You don't get to take him from me as well!

"Do you want to see her?" I asked William, but he refused. He was crying so hard that I had to medicate him. I made sure he drunk his pill, then I took two more of those and offered them to Mulder.

"No," he shook his head: "She was in pain. So should I be."

I stared at him. There seemed to be less life in him than when I resurrected him. When he lost his feelings and tried to take William from me. When he succeeded.

Now he succeeded taking my daughter, too. He didn't call me. He let her die alone.

He was right, he should be in pain.

Still staring at him I swallowed those pills myself.

I curled on the couch with William and he cried himself to sleep in my arms. I was dozing on and off, half aware of Mulder sitting in an armchair across from us with his head buried in his hands and people walking around us, offering food and condolences.

She wanted to be a doctor. Just like her mother.

She wanted to get married and have lots of kids.

She will never hold a baby in her arms.

She will never fall in love.

"Molly, Molly, Molly," William called her even in his drug induced sleep.

She will never have to bury a child. It was the only thought that gave me any comfort.

She will never bury a daughter.

That was my curse to carry.

It rained on her funeral, but it didn't stop the crowd of people from attending it. I didn't know half of those people, but William knew them all. His friends, her friends… And their parents. I was touched by their kindness, but at the same time I wanted to get away from them. I wanted to be alone with my pain.

Not that being alone felt any better.

You think you are prepared, you think you can handle it. But nothing can prepare you for losing a piece of your soul.

We talked about it, Mulder and I, but it wasn't supposed to happen like this. In the end we dared to believe that it wasn't supposed to happen at all. Miracles happen all the time, after all. Molly was so happy, so full of joy and wonder. How can so much life be extinguished so fast, so easily?

For two years, Molly was heart and soul of our family. She made us a family. Without her it all fell rapidly apart…

Two days after the funeral I packed my bags, not knowing for how long. It didn't matter though, since I learned to pack for undetermined amount of time while I worked for the X files. I helped William pack, too. This time I was taking him with me. I promised to myself never to leave him behind again.

Mulder didn't complain. He just stared… at who knows what. Not at me, that's for sure. I didn't mind. It made everything easier.

After a long drive I finally arrived to my mother's house.

"Dana? William?" she was surprised to see us: "What are you doing here at this hour?"

"I couldn't stay in that house," I told her, desperately trying to keep my voice steady and desperately failing: "Everything reminds me of her."

"Oh Dana," mom closed the door behind me and pulled me into an embrace: "I know exactly how you feel."

"Missy was right, mom. I need your help," I said as I wrapped my arms around her and buried my head in her shoulder. Her warm and familiar smell was my undoing and soon I was sobbing like a baby in her protective arms.

Tears came for the first time since before Molly's death and it felt like they will never stop…


	59. Want to believe

Cold hand on my forehead.

Voices.

Where am I?

Bright light. It hurts my eyes. My whole body hurts and I can't move.

She's floating in the light, calling me. She's afraid.

I can't help her.

So afraid…

Daddy!

Molly!

Cold hand on my cheek.

She's gone, she's gone, she's gone…

I couldn't save her.

Molly!

But she's gone. They took her.

Cold hand on my neck.

Whispers of a lover from the other side.

Damn it, Mulder! - she scolds me.

Always had.

Always will.

I'll never be good enough.

I couldn't save our daughter.

I let her…

"Mulder!" she yells in a whisper.

My head is so hurting.

So very much.

Not nearly enough.

I let her die…

"Open your eyes," her no-nonsense voice is drilling in my ears and I would do anything just to make her shut up.

So I comply.

I open my eyes to stare in my wife.

A stranger.

My wife.

"She's afraid," I explain, desperate for her to understand: "Molly's afraid."

"Molly is gone, Mulder," a stranger says.

"I know. They took her. We need to find her. We need to save her!"

Scully, you have to believe me! No one else in this whole damn world does or ever will!

"Nobody took her, Mulder. Molly died and we buried her. You know this."

"You were there!"

"Yes… And so were you."

"I saw her abduction."

"You saw her die, Mulder. She died in your arms."

"They took her…"

"She's DEAD, Mulder! You have to accept that! WE have to accept that."

I'm sitting on the floor now, Scully kneeling in front of me, shaking me in desperation.

A stranger.

My wife.

My Scully.

My love.

I remember now.

"I didn't call you. You were mad at me."

"I'm still mad at you, Mulder. You can't do this to me! You can't fall apart on me, not now! I can't… I can't handle this..."

She's sobbing.

I'm sobbing.

"You are the strongest person I know, Scully."

"My strength just run out… There's none of it left."

"Left… You left…"

"I had to."

"Are you back now?"

"No. Mulder, I can't…"

"When?"

"I'm not coming back."

"Don't do this. Don't do this now."

"I don't know what else to do…"

"Scully…"

"Come with me, Mulder."

"I can't. I can't leave her."

"She's not here."

"I feel her here! In every room she breathed in, in everything she touched… It all reminds me of her."

We are standing now. I feel unsteady on my feet.

"It reminds me, as well. I can't… I can't handle it."

"I need you here, Scully!"

"You don't need me, Mulder. You never had."

"Oh stop it! Not that crap again!"

"I…" but I don't let her continue. I crash my mouth on hers and she grabs my head, my neck, in a desperate kiss. We are stealing breath from each other, in a vain attempt to survive. My hand travels to her pants but she stops me as abruptly as I assaulted her.

"We can't. Mark is here."

"What?"

"I asked him to drive me. I wasn't capable of doing it myself."

"So you went back to him now?"

"Jesus Mulder! I'm married! To you!"

I'm mad. She's mad. Not at each other. At world… At life… At death…

But we only have each other to blame.

Or Mark. I guess.

"You want a divorce? Is that why you came?"

"No, I didn't come here to ask you for a divorce! I know you'd never give it to me, so why would I bother?"

"So you do want it? Now that Molly's gone I'm of no use to you, am I?"

"Don't you dare bring Molly into this!"

"You married me to get her!"

"I married you because I loved you!"

"Loved?"

"I… still love you."

"I still love you too."

"Then come with me."

"Stay with me."

We beg of each other, but we can't comply. Our paths differ, pulling us rapidly apart and we are too broken to fight it, too tired to even try.

We are just crying in each other arms, desperately seeking for comfort that neither of us has the ability to provide. We have nothing left to offer to each other, or to anybody else in this cold, cruel world.

"Take care of yourself, Mulder," she strokes my hair absentmindedly: "I can't worry about you too."

"Take care of William."

"Don't sleep on the floor."

"Don't worry about me."

"Don't do anything stupid."

"I can't do this, Scully! Just go! Please…"

She keeps standing, keeps weeping.

So I go instead.

Upstairs.

Our room.

My room.

I lie on the bed and listen to the car driving away.

Then silence. Very brief silence before she's calling me again.

Daddy! I'm afraid!

Hold on Molly, I'm coming! I'm coming!

I search the entire house but can never find her. She keeps calling me and I keep failing her. I can never save her.

Yet she keeps calling.

And I keep hoping.

This is all just a nightmare and I will soon wake up from it.

I want to believe.


	60. Ex-lovers

"Let's go, Mark," Dana practically pushed me out of the house. I wanted to say hello to Fox, but she insisted that it wasn't a good idea.

I couldn't help but worry about the man. We found him asleep on the floor in Molly's room, but Dana didn't let me wake him up. She wanted to finish packing first and have all her stuff loaded into my car. She claimed it would make things easier since she didn't believe he would let her go so willingly.

I didn't think he should let her go at all, but nobody asked for my opinion. At least Dana didn't ask, and she made sure Mulder didn't get a chance to.

"I'm worried about him, Dana," I was reluctant to leave him alone.

"It's his choice," she said coldly: "I can't stay in this damn house for another second. Just drive."

So I drove, but I didn't do it quietly.

"You are making a mistake," I shook my head.

No response.

"You are destroying your family," I tried again after a few moments.

Silence.

"Dana…"

"It's none of your business!" she finally snapped: "What do you care?"

"I'm not your enemy, Dana," I sighed: "I'm only trying to help."

"You are helping by giving me a ride. I have no use for your lectures."

I sighed again, frustrated by her attitude. She was partially right and that was bothering me the most. It really wasn't my business to try and save the marriage of a man who took away the woman I loved from me. I should have enjoyed his failure and maybe even try to win Dana back.

But I couldn't. Because of Molly. Because of her obnoxious spoiled brother.

Because, against my better judgment, I became friends with a man.

"Is that why you don't make friends anymore?" I firmly asked Dana, refusing to be intimidated by her. I never let any woman intimidate me and she was certainly no exception: "Nobody is good enough for your standards?"

"I have friends," she insisted.

"Name two of them," I challenged her: "Other than Mulder and me, who apparently just lost the title."

"Fuck off!"

"Name two close friends, Dana!" I insisted: "It's a damn easy question! Two names and I'll leave you alone."

"Fine, if it'll make you shut up," she brushed me off, but didn't produce a name. She must have been thinking really hard, but I wasn't going to afford her the luxury of time.

"Well?" I rushed her.

"Skinner!" she snapped. The tone of her voice told me that she wasn't happy with her choice, but couldn't come up with anything better.

"That's only one name," I replied in much softer voice. I wasn't going to force her to continue. I already made my point.

"I work a lot," her voice was becoming shaky and it pleased me. You have to break first in order to start healing: "…and I want to spend my free time with my family. I don't have time to socialize."

"Then why are you abandoning your family?"

"I am not…"

"Do you even think about William and how this is going to affect him?"

"I am doing this for William!"

"Taking him away from his father, from his home?"

"There's nothing left for him there!"

"Is that your decision to make?"

"I am his mother! I decide what's best for him!"

"His mother? Or his father?"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You know what it means. You are the man in the family, not Mulder. You call the shots, you make decisions and the rest of them don't have much say in it. It's your way or the highway."

"Stop the car! I'm not going to listen to this anymore!"

"Come on, Dana, take my advice. As one man to another…"

"Stop the damn car!"

"Yes, sir!"

I pushed the brake, right there in the middle of the road. It didn't matter. We were still on a dirt road and there wasn't a chance in hell for us to encounter any other traffic.

Dana immediately opened the car door and slammed it behind her.

"You don't plan to walk all the way back, do you?" I called after her.

"Watch me!" she yelled back, not turning around. Her walk was fast and determined, so I had to run to catch up with her.

"There's nothing wrong with being a man," I tried to explain: "Someone has to."

"Leave me alone!"

"You are still capable of being a woman. You would be one if you stayed with me."

This stopped her. It stopped me too. I had no idea where my words came from, but once I spoke them there was no way in hell I would take them back.

"How dare you!" she was furious. Her hand went up in a clear attempt to slap me, but I caught it and held it firmly in mine. I watched her expression, the face of a wild beast, yet the eyes full of desperation. She needed to be tamed, conquered, controlled…

"You and I," I smiled, knowing that I have her trapped: "We were amazing together, weren't we?"

"Yes," she gasped: "We were."

Still holding her hand in mine, I slowly lowered my face towards hers, going for her lips. Her mouth opened up for me and I was soon able to feel her shaky breath and smell her scent. It was so tempting and too damn easy. Too bad I'm not an easy man.

"You are this close to ending your marriage," I whispered in her face, my lips almost touching hers, our breaths mixing in the cold air. That spark between us, it was still there. It pleased me. It saddened me: "You are this close to breaking my heart again. And for what? To forget just for a second that you weren't there when she died? Hell, you can blame Mulder till the end of the world, you can blame me if you wish, but it's not going to bring her back!"

I let her go and moved away from her personal space a bit. Her eyes filled with tears, but she wasn't willing to let them fall.

"He should have called me!" she insisted, like an immature child.

"He couldn't have known she was going to die. Even if he did, you wouldn't have been able to get there in time."

"Still, he should have called!"

"Dana, he was in shock. It's not his fault. And it's not your fault either."

"Then whose fault is it?" she couldn't hold my gaze anymore. She lowered her eyes and almost became even smaller by doing it. My heart ached for her and my hand went to her hair, stroking it gently. I had to keep talking now, I was finally reaching her.

"It's nobody's fault, Dana. You know that," I spoke to her in a gentle and soothing voice that I usually reserve for my granddaughter: "If you knew what was going to happen you'd never go to hospital that day, you'd stay at home with her. But you didn't know. Nobody did. You decided to go to work and there's nothing wrong with it. But it was YOUR choice. You can't blame Fox for that. He wanted you to take time off and you were in the process of doing just that. You both did the right thing, it's just that sometimes it's not enough. Dana… You won't be able to forgive him before you forgive yourself."

She slowly raised her head and met my eyes with her, now openly weeping, ones: "Okay. I understand. Let's just go now."

"Okay," I smiled and gently pulled her into a hug. She stayed tense in my embrace and I started to stroke her back, trying to get her to relax a little. It felt good to just hold her, though my blood was boiling and my hormones demanding more. She was so lost, so vulnerable, it would be too easy to take advantage of her. A part of me wanted to, and if there was just a hint of hope of her ever loving me back I would have taken her, I would have reclaimed her body as mine and never let her go again.

But there was no such hope. It wasn't worth to destroy two friendships and one marriage for something that can never be.

Damn you, Mulder, you irritating, paranoid man, how did you know that befriending me is the surest way to keep me away from her? No wonder you were one of the best profilers in your time!

"Let's go," Scully pulled me back from my thoughts and her body from my arms. We went back to the car in silence and we stayed quiet for the rest of the ride, each lost in their own thoughts. There wasn't anything left to say. It was enough that I managed to reach her and help her cope with her loss in a healthier way.

Or so I thought.

As it turned out, my words only made the situation worse. Dana didn't take her son back to his father and they didn't live happily ever after. She wrote a letter of resignation instead. As if refusing to seek comfort in the man she loves and giving up her home wasn't enough of a self-punishment for her tortured soul, she gave up her job as well.


	61. Growing up

My sister died and it changed everything.

At first, I wasn't much aware of what was going on around me. All I could think about was Molly and all I could do was feed her fish. I promised her to take care of them and I never broke that promise, not even when mom stuffed me with pills or moved me to grandma's place. The fish went with me and they looked happy and healthy, not missing Molly a bit.

I didn't understand the fish.

My dad told me that losing Samantha broke his family apart, but I never thought it could happen to us. It forced him to grow up overnight and I maybe that was happening to me too. I didn't like it. I didn't want to know the grown up stuff, I wanted to be like my friends, but I suddenly felt that I don't really have much in common with them. I had so many friends, but never a best friend.

Never before Molly, that is. And I don't even know if it counts, since she was my sister and so much younger than me, but I never felt so comfortable with anybody else.

Molly fulfilled my two biggest wishes in the world, what I dreamed about all my life and what I wished for while blowing candles on all of my birthday cakes that I can remember: to have a sibling and for my parents to live together. She even got them married and I admired her for it. We were happy when she was with us.

I didn't just lose a sister and a best friend. I lost my family too. And my cat. Life was so unfair and sometimes I didn't even want to live anymore. I wished I was dead instead of Molly. Everybody would still be happy if she was alive in place of me.

I liked being with grandma and she was very nice to me, so it took me a while to realize that dad was not with us. I started to ask mom when we will be going home and she never gave an understandable response. Dad called me sometimes, but all he would talk about were aliens or something like that. He begged me to believe him, and I kept promising him that I do, but I didn't understand at all what he was talking about. It scared me a little. I wasn't so eager to go home anymore.

That's when mom found a new home for us. She also quit her job and I didn't understand how she could afford the rent. She told me I shouldn't worry about that.

Grandma was sad when we left, but I promised to visit her often. It was easy now that we lived in the city, I could take a public transportation and go wherever I wanted. It was so much better than at home where we didn't have any neighbors and I couldn't go anywhere by myself. I would have liked my new life if dad was with us and if mom didn't start to act strange. She was all over me, it was weird and embarrassing. She wanted to spend all her time with me and do everything with me. It was scary. She even started to take me to school and hold my hand in front of all my friends, as if it was my first day of school!

"Are you nervous?" she asked me and I shook my head fast, looking all around us, hoping against hope that no one will see us.

"Your hands are sweaty," she insisted.

"Ew, that's you!" I said as an excuse to pull my hand away from her. She smiled, but it was a sad smile and I tried not to be mad at her. I left her at school entrance, and she waited for me at the same place after my classes. I wouldn't be surprised if she didn't leave at all during all that time.

I tried to talk to her nicely, but she didn't want to understand. She kept saying that she wants to make up for lost time.

"What lost time?" I almost yelled at her in frustration. I was tired of growing up with a dad who was always there, needed or not, but this was so much worse. She barely allowed me to go to bathroom by myself anymore! I admired mom for having a career, so how could she possibly think that I would appreciate her giving it up just to smother me all the time?

"Your first year," she said with tears in her eyes.

"Oh for god's sake, mom! I don't remember my first year at all! As far as I'm concerned, you were always a part of my life! You didn't miss anything!"

"But I remember," she insisted.

"Well…" I didn't know what to say. Did she really not understand at all, or was she just pretending not to? My mom is the smartest person in the whole world, so it must have been the latter. But why?

"You missed Molly's first six years," I finally said: "And that never bothered you!"

It hurt to mention Molly's name in a fight, I guess it hurt both of us, but it was the only way I could end the discussion and get some alone time while mom locks herself in the bathroom to cry.

The fights didn't help, so I started running. Dad taught me how to run and I was much faster than mom. While we walked to school I would just tell her goodbye and run away. When I saw her waiting for me after school I started to run before she had a chance to say hello. She gave up eventually, but it didn't make anything better. I still knew she would wait at home for me, so I avoided going home as much as I could. I didn't want her to worry about me, so at first I was just a little late, and every week just a little more.

Some days I couldn't even bring myself to go to school at all. I stole Skinner's spare key from mom and went to his place occasionally. His cat Mitch was always happy to see me and it was the only familiar place where I didn't feel sad. I played with Mitch imagining that Molly and Lily can see us, and maybe even play with each other just like we did. I could talk to Mitch and he listened. He didn't talk about aliens or missing time. He was just as cute and cool as ever. I never told him about Molly's death, though, since I was afraid that it might make him crazy too.

I always made sure to leave the place as I found it and before Skinner comes back from work. Maybe he wouldn't be mad, but I couldn't take that chance. It was the only place left for me, that and the street.

I met new friends on the street, they thought me how to smoke and drink. I didn't like it at first, but I got used to it. Anything was better than going home.

Mom started to drink, too, but much more than me. When she was drunk she was like a completely different person. She kept me awake at nights with terrible stories she had to tell.

She told me that she once had cancer and was supposed to die from it, just like Molly, but dad found something to put in her neck and it cured her.

She told me about monsters that she still sometimes has nightmares about.

She told me about trying to kill dad when she was sick and dad trying to kill her when he was drugged and had holes drilled in his head.

She told me about lying pregnant and hurt under her dead partner and soaking in his blood.

"John", she told me: "I would have named you John, after my partner John Carter, the man who saved your life."

She told me about fighting for my custody with dad, about their law suit.

She even told me all about having sex with dad for the first time, while I was sleeping next to them.

How dad is awkward in bed, but Mark… Mark is so much better and she wishes she could have both, even if it meant at the same time.

How Emily's blood was green and poisonous, and she just evaporated when she died. There was no body in her casket.

How Emily was her daughter, but other people adopted her. And Molly was her daughter too, but another woman gave birth to her. So who were the real parents of any of them? Which girl was more hers? Did she have any right to either of them at all?

I cried a lot listening to her and every night when she finally fell asleep I prayed to god that none of it is true. I started to have nightmares, too, about green little girls and my mom having sex. She never remembered telling me any of it and I didn't want anybody to find out. So I started cleaning the apartment when she stopped doing it and making all kind of excuses for her. If someone came for a visit while she was lying with a hangover I told them she had a headache or flu or something. Nobody but me knew what was really going on, and I didn't want them to know what she became, I didn't want them to see my mother like that or to hear those terrible, terrible stories.

I heard it before, how alcohol can change people, I had friends whose parents divorced because one of them was drinking, how it can happen even to good, smart, successful people and turn them into monsters, but I never thought it could happen to my mom. I tried to talk to her many times, she was always very ashamed and kept promising that she would stop drinking, but she was still doing it again. The more bottles we poured down the drain together, the more appeared at their place the next day.

Even if I didn't really grow up overnight, I certainly did over the year following Molly's death…


	62. In-laws

Author's note:

Ok, I avoided writing notes so far, but I'm getting guest reviews that I really don't want to ignore, so this feels like a chance to address them.

First of all, for a guest that said my story became too dark and that they will stop reading if the next chapter doesn't fix that. It feels strange to lose a reader I didn't even know I had and who is still completely anonymous to me. It does make me sad a little anyway, but I've been losing readers since the beginning and I've learned to live with that. I always wanted to know the reasons why they stop reading, so I'm really grateful that you decided to share your reason with me. I appreciate your feedback, but this is my story and I can't meet your demands. I can tell you, though, that I'm not going into darkness just for the sake of it. I'm not putting my characters through hell because I enjoy torturing them, but because I'm trying to find a way out. I do wish that you give me a chance to do it, but there are no quick fixes in real life, and you will not find them in my story as well. Don't leave my characters now when they are on the bottom! Give them a chance to pull through.

I am not some heartless bitch who enjoys torturing characters. I've been writing this story for months and I feel deeply everything I write about. I get very sad when writing a sad chapter, and happy when they are having good time. I'm a slow writer and it can take a few hours for me to finish my short chapters, but I think about my story all the time, while I'm walking, running, lying in bed before I fall asleep… I consider suggestions from readers and often incorporate them in my story but I will not change anything just to please somebody. The great thing about writing is that everything is your choice and only yours! If you want smut, hearts and flowers, the best ever perfect sex and happily ever after… well, there are lots of stories like that, they are insanely popular, but I don't like them and I don't see the point of writing something that has already been done thousands times before.

To the guest who said that this is crap, I happen to agree with you. Alcoholism is crap! It's crap to live with someone who suffers from it! It's crap to see them saying and doing things you could never imagine them saying or doing while sober. It's crap for them and everyone around them! It's a fucking sick crap and I so wish I knew nothing about it!

And finally, to the guest HarleyQuinn, your request for one last kiss between Scully and Mark really surprised me. I didn't expect that, but I'm really pleased to know that I created a character that readers like to see Scully with, even though he's not Mulder. Does anybody else think this should happen?

Does anybody else think anything else should happen or not happen? Whatever you like or don't like about my story, I want to know! I reply to reviews that I can, and even though some of them don't call for a reply at all it doesn't mean I'm ignoring them, I read them and appreciate them and I want to take this opportunity to thank all of you for them! I appreciate even flames, really! They do hurt for a bit, but I feel proud if my story moved you enough to take the time to write a review, I'm glad to know it stirred some feelings in you, even if it's just hate for the author. As someone once said: The opposite of love is ignorance, not hate.

Ok, enough of me, let's get back to the story!

In-laws

"Oh, hi Mrs. Scully," Fox greeted me after at least fifteen minutes of my insistent knocking on his door.

"Can I come in?" I asked him after a few moments, when it became pretty clear that he had no intention of inviting me in on his own account.

"Um…" he said looking at his shoes: "I'd rather you didn't."

"Please, Fox," I was gentle but determinant: "I drove a lot to get here and I need to rest for a bit before driving back. I'm an old woman."

"The place is a mess," he was still unable to look me in the eye: "I… wasn't feeling very well."

"Please, son."

I reached for his cheek, and he immediately moved away, both from the door and my hand. I stepped inside and my heart broke all over again. Not so long ago this was a happy house, full of love and laughter, but now it really was a mess and it smelled bad, it smelled of death and decaying.

"What can I offer you?" Fox asked me and I was pleased to see him remembering his manners.

"Nothing, thank you," I replied: "I just wanted to see how you are doing. I haven't seen you since… funeral I think."

"I'm f…" he started to reply, but was suddenly chocking on his words. He was obviously trying to say 'fine', but his body refused to produce that word, fighting against it like it was a deadly poison. Finally, he blurted: "f…ucked up! I'm sorry, Mrs. Scully, I'm sorry, I really am."

He fell on his knees and buried his head in his hands, sobbing uncontrollably. I wanted to get down with him and hold him, nurse him back to health, but all I could do was place one of my hands on his head. Then another one, too. You can't just sit on the floor in my age, and even if I managed that I would never be able to get up.

"It's ok, son, it's ok," I whispered to him like he was a baby and he wrapped his arms around me and buried his head in my belly, holding me so tightly and desperately like his life was depending on it.

"Mom," he cried: "Don't leave me! Everybody… Everybody left me."

So that's what he needed, that's what Skinner and Mark couldn't provide for him: a mother. But I could. It was the only thing I had to give, but I was suddenly filled with hope that it might be enough to make a difference.

"I lost her, mom. I lost her! I lost everybody."

"No, Fox, you didn't. I am right here. We didn't abandon you. We all love you and care about you. We want to help you, but you have to let us."

"I lost her, mom! I'm sorry... I'm sorry..."

"It wasn't your fault. You were just a child. There's nothing you could have done."

"Dad left us. It was all because of me."

"It wasn't your fault, Fox."

"Please forgive me."

"There's nothing to forgive."

I stroked his hair, gently talking to him, trying to bring him back from his childhood regression and help him to face the reality of losing a child. My eyes were full of tears too, and it was only so much I could do to hold back maybe half of them. I was thinking about my sons, now so far away from me, how it felt to carry them in my belly, hold them in my arms…

How I will never see any of them again…

My health was rapidly declining, my heart getting weaker on every checkup that I now routinely underwent. My doctors didn't give me much more than a year and there wasn't a lot they could do. I accepted it, feeling at peace. I was getting my accounts in order, making last minute changes to my will and changing my living will. I didn't want an option for a life support anymore. Not in my age. Thinking about my husband and late daughter gave me comfort in knowing that I will soon be with them again, but not being able to see my sons just one more time was breaking my already weak heart.

This desperate, broken man who showered me in his tears was the closest thing to a son that I had left.

I don't know how long I stood there and shook with his sobs. It took him a long time to calm down, and even longer to raise his head from my stomach. Still kneeling, he looked at me, his eyes red and swollen, full of surprise and confusion as he spoke: "You're not my mother."

I smiled at him and assured him through my own tears: "Yes, Fox, I am."

He gave me something that almost looked like a smile, and it filled my heart with joy. My hands were still in his hair, and now I lowered them to his cheeks, trying to wipe away some of his tears. It was an awkward task and it made us both chuckle, but he immediately lowered his eyes again, frightened and remorseful as if he committed a deadly sin.

"I know what you're going through, Fox," I told him, raising his head back towards me and trying to make him look at my eyes again: "I've been there. I know that every smile, every comfort you feel, every second you're not thinking about her feels like you're betraying her. It feels like you are abandoning her. Like no amount of pain will ever be enough to match the amount of love you feel for her. And it shouldn't! Love will always prevail, no matter how much you try to punish yourself for not going before your child, as it is expected in a natural order. I know you are afraid of forgetting her if you ever let go of your pain, but I promise you it is not possible to forget your daughter. She will always be a part of you. She wouldn't want you to live like this, especially not because of her. The best way to honor her memory is to go on with your life, and as long as you are alive she will live through you. Now, look at yourself, Fox. Look at this place. Is this how you want to carry her legacy?"

He fiercely shook his head, still refusing to look at me. I decided to let him go, releasing my hands from his head, but he stopped me, taking my palms in his and bringing them to his lips, kissing one, then the other.

"Let me help you, Fox," I pleaded.

"You can't," he whispered: "Nobody can."

"We will find a specialist…"

"No! You don't understand. I can't go to a specialist. I can't go… anywhere. If I try to leave the house I… I can't breathe… I can't go to my garden… or… my porch… It's… I… I'm afraid… I'm afraid to leave the damn house! I want to go to my wife, I want to go to my son, but I can't even leave this damn house!"

"Okay," I told him: "I will find someone to come here then. How does that sound? Don't worry, son. We'll get through this."

He didn't say yes, but he didn't say no either. It was enough for a start.


	63. A father figure

It was one of those days when I wanted to be anything but Assistant Director in the FBI. Long was gone the time when I considered that title to be an honor. Nowadays, it was more than obvious that I will never be offered a promotion. Doing the same job for over two decades takes its toll on a man. Not much has changed during all those years. Except the paperwork. There seems to be more and more paperwork.

It was a crappy day and all I wanted was to pour myself a drink, feed my cat and vegetate in front of the television. Poor, pathetic, old Walter!

I was already nursing a headache, too, but I blame Mulder for that. The man has always given me headaches, even more after he stopped working than when my job included supervising him. Just two days ago I was at his place, trying in vain to talk some sense into him. He won't leave the house, he won't get help, he only eats and takes a shower when Mark or I come over to force him. And the two of us are all he has left, since his wife is not doing much better herself.

How convenient!

If there is one thing I am certain about Mulder and Scully, it's that when one of them falls the other one is always there to pick them up. I never saw them fall apart at the same time before and I wish I never had to. It's not a nice sight.

I sighed, preparing to unlock my apartment's door, when I noticed that it's not even locked. Great! I already left the office for the day and now I had to do a field work in my own apartment! You picked the wrong man to rob, buddy, whoever you are!

I took out my gun and slowly stepped inside. It was quiet and it seemed empty. Maybe whoever was here already left, but you can never be too careful.

"Meow," Mitch came from the living room and briefly brushed himself on my leg.

"Good boy," I whispered to him, relieved that he's ok.

Then I heard it: breathing in the living room. I slowly approached half-open door and peeked inside. It was dark, but I could see somebody lying on the couch. It was time for action.

"Federal agent!" I yelled, storming into the room: "I'm armed! Put your hands where I can see them!"

The intruder sat up and raised his arms above his head, just as he was told.

"Cool!" he remarked, sounding amused.

What the hell?!

I reached to turn on the light with one hand, and lowered the gun in other immediately after, as soon as I saw the trespasser's face.

"Jesus, William! How did you get here?"

"I took mom's keys."

"Where is she?"

"At home. She's always at home. I fell asleep, I'm sorry, I didn't want you to find me here."

I approached him and sat on the couch next to him. He looked tired and tortured, I had to find out what was going on.

"You should have asked me," I told him: "I would've given you your own key."

"Really?" his face lit with joy: "I can stay?"

"You can stay as much as you want, but I don't want your mother to worry. Does she know where you are?"

"No!" his expression changed to panic: "Please don't tell her!"

"William," I sighed: "What is going on?"

"Nothing! I swear!"

"Don't you trust me, son?"

"I do! Of course I do!"

"Did you have a fight with your mother?"

"No! I love her!"

"And what makes you think that I don't?"

My words silenced him for a moment, until their meaning sunk in and he broke into tears. When he started to talk I thought he would never stop. He was always a fast talker, but this was a highway speed, and it was scary. I worried that he would start to hyperventilate at any moment or run out of air, pass out even, but he just kept going and going and going; and the more I listened to him the angrier I became, at myself mostly, for not noticing any of that before, and for months for god's sake! How could I have been so blind? Me of all people? How could I have let down the person that I care about the most, how could I have betrayed him in such a deep and fundamental way?

"Please don't tell her," he cried after an eternity of soul pouring, repeating that one sentence over and over and over again, like a broken record: "Please don't tell her, please don't tell her, please don't tell her…"

I was getting dizzy just listening to him, but I didn't leave his side until he finally calmed down.

"You don't have to go home," I assured him: "You can sleep here and we will figure out the rest tomorrow. Or I can take you to your grandmother if that's what you prefer."

"No, I want to stay here."

"Then that's settled. Will you be ok by yourself for a while?"

"Why? Where are you going?"

"I am going to fix this mess."

"Skinner…"

"Trust me, William," I insisted: "Let me be the adult for a while, I'm more experienced in that field than you are. Not just because of my age…"

William nodded.

"And no more of these!" I warned him, taking the cigarette packet that lay on the coffee table. Morley's, for god's sake!

He nodded again.

"No more smoking in my house," I wanted to make my message clear: "I can't stop you from doing it elsewhere, but I am highly advising you against it."

Another nod. Who knew even William can run out of words? It felt awkward to see him so quiet and I hated to leave him like that, but no matter his condition I knew he wasn't the one who needed me most.

I squeezed his shoulder and stormed out of the apartment. There was no time to waste, not anymore, I already wasted too much of it. I wanted to blame myself for letting it go this far, but that would be just another waste of time. William already blamed himself. So did Scully and Mulder. If I wanted to help any of them, blaming myself was a luxury I couldn't afford.

Twenty minutes later I was banging on Scully's door. When she didn't answer I almost knocked the door down, but remembered at the last moment that I have a spare key.

She was sitting at the table in a dark and stale kitchen.

"Scully, it's me," I said as I turned the light on. She moaned unpleasantly and covered her eyes with one hand, while the other held onto the almost empty bottle.

"Can't we do it in the dark?" she whined.

"Do what?"

"Have sex."

"I didn't come here to have sex with you."

"Then why the hell did you come? To lecture me? Make fun of me? Boss me around? Tell me that I have a reason to live? Fuck that, Walter! Fuck meeee!"

"If you want to get laid," I suggested, not losing my calm although boiling with rage inside: "I suggest you go to your husband."

"Like he's any good at it!" she said with disgust: "He won't even leave the damn house and there's noooooo way in hell I'm going back there. You'll do juuuuust fine."

"No. That's his responsibility, not mine."

"And what's yours, Mr. Abstinence?"

"To get you sober."

"Ha! Good luck with that!"

I approached her and took the bottle from her, leaving it in the sink.

"Now what am I supposed to drink?" she complained.

"Here," I poured the glass of water and placed it on the table in front of her. She stared at in shock and disgust as if it was black oil or some other nasty thing. Then she looked up at me and smiled fondly: "You are soooo cute, do you know that?"

"Drink it!" I ordered.

"But I'm not thiiirsty," she whined.

"Drink it!" I repeated.

"No!" she squeezed her hand into a fist and punched the table. My hands were fisted too, my patience with her rapidly declining. Her eyes looked empty, like nobody was home, but I was determinant to get her back, no matter what it takes.

She pushed the glass and it fell on the floor, crushing into pieces. It amused her and she started to laugh almost hysterically.

I wasn't amused, though. I grabbed her wrists and pulled her up, then dragged her to the bathroom where I unceremoniously dropped her in the tub.

"That wasn't nice," she noted, but I ignored her. I was done talking.

I turned the water on cold and placed a shower above her head. It made her scream, so I directed the flow into her face instead. I didn't want her neighbors to hear the screams and call the police. She struggled, but I held her down until her body went limp. As soon as I turned the water off, she threw up all over herself. What a sight!

I placed a finger under her chin to raise her head, searching for her eyes, but she closed them tight in order to avoid my gaze.

"Why are you doing this?" she gasped: "Don't you think I suffered enough?"

"Yes," I told her gently: "That's why."

She was shaking now, I didn't know whether from sobbing or coldness, but it could have been both. The tears of pain and embarrassment fled her cheeks, mixing with the drops of water. My heart ached for her, but I couldn't let myself feel sorry for her. Not now, not anymore. She needed a tough hand, and if I didn't give it to her, no one else would. That I was sure about.

"Take off your clothes," I ordered.

"I can't believe this is turning you on," her tone of voice was accusatory.

"Hardly," I answered, not showing any emotions, just the authority she was so used to in our relationship that I hoped she would still respond to: "I never thought I'd tell you this, Scully, but you smell bad. You stink, more precisely. Now, this can go in one of two ways, you either listen to me and shower in warm water, or you give me attitude and I'll turn on the cold water again. What's it going to be, Mrs. Scully?"

She did open her eyes now and directed a hateful stare towards me. It gave me chills, but I didn't back away. I held her gaze firmly, pointing the shower head at her as if I was holding a gun.

Scully is a smart woman who used to be a brilliant FBI agent. She knows when to fight back and when she doesn't have a chance. With shaky hands she started to take off her clothes and she allowed me to help her. It was faster that way and I wanted to get her out of the tub as fast as possible. I wanted to sober her, not to get her sick.

She didn't look at me again as I helped her wash up, clearly embarrassed by her nudity and vulnerability.

"It's okay," I said to reassure her, but I didn't say much else, not wanting to make this more awkward for her. It felt more natural to me than I thought it possibly could. Without her clothes she looked even more tiny and thin, like a small child instead of a grown-up woman.

I took her out of the tub, placed her on the toilet and started to dry her off. She just sat there, looking defeated and not participating anymore.

"This isn't going to work," she informed me: "Sooner or later you will have to leave my side. You can't stop me."

"Okay," I sighed: "Let's make it sooner then."

I took out my gun from the holster and offered it to her: "Take it. Make a choice. Either join the dead or come back to living. There's no point in vegetating like this and you know it. End it, Dana. I can't help you, no one can, it's your choice to make."

I kneeled in front of her and gently placed the gun on her lap. She took it reluctantly and looked at me with fear, but also with a dose of spite.

"You're just going to watch me?" she asked in disbelief.

"Yes," I answered: "I'm not leaving you alone."

"That's bullshit, Walter!"

"Yes," I said calmly: "It is. But I can handle it. I've seen more deaths than I care to remember and I caused lots of them myself. So have you. Let's just be practical now, shall we? I don't want William to find you and I will assume you don't want it either. So it'll be better if I stay around to clean the mess afterwards, don't you agree?"

"William…" she whispered.

"Yes, William… I never told you this, Scully, but… I was the one who found my mother after she… killed herself. I will never know why… A part of me died that day… The other part died when dad started drinking… Why do you think I joined the marines so young? Why do you think I never mention my family? It took the encounter with death to bring me back to life. I don't want William to go through any of this. But if I can't stop it, the least I can do is protect him from witnessing it. You are not alone, Dana. We'll get through this together, whichever way you decide to take it. But you have to decide. You have to take the responsibility."

I placed my hands on her knees and watched her carefully as she struggled with her demons. She obviously didn't want to die, but she didn't want to live either. I know the feeling, I've been there, but I buried it somewhere deep inside me, never wanting to remember. I didn't have that option anymore, as it occurred to me that the only way to help her through her darkness was to face my own…

"No!" she finally shook her head and handed me back my gun: "I can't do it. I can't. I want to live. I choose life."

I took the gun from her and smiled, nodding with approval. She smiled back.

"I know you took the bullets out," she laughed now and I laughed with her. It wasn't a happy laugh, but a nervous, hysterical one, a way to release tension built in the last couple of minutes, weeks, months…

"I did, I admit," I confessed, catching my breath: "I couldn't risk it. I hoped it would still work."

"It did," she said gently, in tears again: "Thank you…"

"Thank you," she repeated after she wrapped her arms around me. I pulled her down from the toilet until she was kneeling on the floor with me, so that I could press her body closer to mine and give her some of my warmth and strength, some of my will to live.

Settled firmly in each other's embrace, we started to laugh again.


	64. Impossible

"Here we are," Skinner said, but none of us moved. From the place we were parked we could see Molly's grave and two people standing in front of it.

"Dad! Grandma!" William exclaimed when he recognized them and quickly exited the car. We watched him run towards Mulder and my mother and observed their encounter.

"Dana?" Skinner nudged me.

"I can't," I explained: "Not now. After they're gone."

"Are you sure?" he pierced me with his gaze. I felt it, even though I wasn't looking at him. I was looking at my family, or what I had left of it, the people I loved most in the world, but couldn't join by my daughter's grave. My pain was still fresh and I still had a hard time facing it, so I was in no position to deal with their sorrow as well. It would be too much. It would have crushed me, finished me. My sanity was hanging on a thin thread and Walter was the only person strong enough to hold that thread for me.

I called him Walter now. We became very close lately and I don't think I could have made it back from my hell without him. I still wasn't completely back, but the worst part seemed to be behind me. I started seeing a therapist, as well as a support group where I tried to make new friends, having Mark's words echo constantly through my mind: "When did you stop making friends?"

When, really? It had something to do with my assignment to the X files. The work consumed me and there just wasn't time for socializing. Ordinary life and small talk started to seem dull compared to the thrills of my job. No time for lunch dates and girl talk, sorry, I have to save the world!

I was so important, so irreplaceable! Mulder made me feel that way like no one else before or after ever could. Being one of the middle children from the big family never gave me much opportunity to shine, but in the FBI basement I was vital and unique.

Still, Mulder and I didn't save the world. We didn't save our daughter. We couldn't even save our marriage…

A year ago, on this day, Molly Mulder Scully lost her battle with the cancer that fed on her brain. I wasn't there when she died and I couldn't even remember when was the last time I spoke to her. I remember checking up on her that day before I left for the hospital. She was sleeping so I tried not to disturb her too much. I kissed her on the forehead and left, oblivious to the signs of death approaching. Even in hindsight I couldn't recall any signs, but there had to be something. If only I had looked hard enough! But I didn't. I left my dying child to go to work. What kind of mother does that?

I know I didn't really have a right to fall apart. I knew what I was getting myself into, I knew it would have taken a miracle for things to end differently with Molly. But I thought I had that miracle. I thought she was too precious to die and that God wouldn't possibly be so cruel to her. I prepared myself for her death before I brought her home, but her joy and will to live crushed my careful preparation piece by piece until there was none of it left and I allowed myself to believe that I wouldn't need it after all.

"Dana, go to them," Skinner's firm voice brought me back from my thoughts.

"I can't, I'm not ready," my voice was shaky despite my best efforts.

"I miss her so much," I admitted and Skinner's hand covered mine.

"I know," he said: "I miss her too."

Skinner and I spent lots of nights together, talking about Molly, reminiscing. We talked about others things as well, anything really. It started with his two week vacation that he took to help me overcome my drinking. He never left me alone during that period, and when it was especially hard he made lots of tea and we would drink it together, as if it was alcohol, until we got sick of it. He used empty bottles of spirits, filled them with fresh iced tea and shared them with me, saying that I shouldn't run from them, but instead refill them with something healthier. I hugged those bottles and cried with them, telling Skinner all about my wedding gift to Mulder and how iced tea meant love in our language.

I missed Mulder with every fiber of my being, but I couldn't go to him. I wasn't angry at him anymore, but I had my own issues to deal with, and he had his. I'm not saying our marriage was a mistake, but it all happened too fast. I needed time to figure out who I am without him, who is Dana without Scully, without her husband and her job, without a place to hide from herself.

Without her daughters, that were never truly hers in the first place, as wasn't her son either.

Where did she go wrong? How do I even begin fixing her? How do I fix William, who suffered so much because of me, who I put through hell will my behavior when I was so intoxicated that I can't remember any of it?

I watched Mulder, mom and William turn towards the car and look at us, but they didn't approach. Mom smiled and waved and I waved back at her. Mulder just nodded, but it was so slightly that I might have only imagined it. He wasn't ready either. Or so I wanted to believe.

I looked at him, remembering the dream I've been having recently. We are making love in that dream, slowly and carefully, the way he prefers it. I feel his body on mine, sliding into me deeper and deeper until I can't distinguish where I end and he begins. His hand goes under mine, my leg over his, until I don't know anymore which limb belongs to whom. We melt into each other, our hips joining not just by our genitals, but all the way through to the bones. He keeps sinking deeper into me until his heart touches mine and disappears into it. We have only one heart now, only one body, we are one being.

Sometimes I miss him when I wake up. Sometimes I don't, as I can still feel him inside me and all around him, his heart still beating in my chest and I wonder if one day I will actually wake up in his body instead of mine. How long would it take me to notice the difference? Would I even be able to?

"I know you're trying to figure out who you are without him," Skinner told me: "But I don't believe that's what your dream is about. I don't think you are done figuring out who you are WITH him. Don't frown on me, Dana! You are talking to a man who hasn't seen his wife in decades but is still refusing to give her a divorce. Honestly, what do you expect me to say?"

Mulder and mom hugged William goodbye and left. He was now standing alone by his sister's grave, but I still wasn't leaving the car. Molly and William were very close and I wanted to give him a little privacy with her.

"You can't avoid him forever," Skinner said, watching my husband walk away with my mother.

"I know," I sighed: "But now it's not the time."

"I know you miss him," he insisted.

"Of course I miss him," I admitted: "Being with him was possibly one of the most intense and challenging relationships I may ever have. And, quite honestly, the most impossible."

I expected Skinner to contradict me, to remind me that I'm still married to Mulder and that our marriage is far from over. But he didn't. He didn't say anything at all.

He started to laugh.

Now that I didn't expect. I looked at him, puzzled and confused.

"Oh Dana," he said: "YOU are impossible! Ever since I've met you've been impossible. You solved impossible cases, survived impossible dangers, worked with a man who was impossible to handle by anybody else in the Bureau. You saved him from impossible diseases and even resurrected him after we buried him. You managed to make a child with impossible odds of ever happening. Even with Molly, who you adopted from her deathbed, you had impossible two years of normal childhood, up until just ten days before she died."

"What exactly are you implying?" I asked, unamused by his speech.

"Nothing, my dear friend," he chuckled again: "Just that 'impossible' has never stopped you before..."


	65. Love you anyway

After Molly died time just stopped for me. Nothing was happening anymore, though everything was falling apart. But all that went wrong did so when my child's heart stopped beating in my arms, the rest was just unfolding of the consequences of that morning.

It happened in an instant.

She wasn't supposed to die. I was. I was even buried for months, for god's sake! How could I have possibly continued to walk free, when my daughter's blood was on my hands?

So I didn't. My mind didn't allow me to leave the house anymore, and it was only fair, only fit. Scully and William escaped in time, they saved themselves from me, from my curse that took my innocent little princess.

The curse brought on by my father's sins. It showed itself for the first time when Samantha was abducted right in front of my eyes, and it continued to ruin the lives of everybody close to me in any way. There was no escaping it. No redemption, no way out.

Samantha wasn't supposed to be taken. I was.

Mom wasn't supposed to kill herself. I was.

William wasn't supposed to be my son. He was supposed to be Mark's.

Scully was supposed to marry Mark.

Mrs. Scully was supposed to be with her, helping her mourn the losses I caused, helping her purge me out of her life, if the evil I brought can ever be exorcised…

But Mrs. Scully wasn't with her daughter.

She was with me.

I gave up on myself and waited for the world to give up on me too. Somehow, my mother in law, not fit enough to drive anymore, did it anyway and knocked on my door, refusing to leave. Once she came, she didn't go away. I found myself waking up in her lap, not remembering how I got there. I found myself desperately looking for a mother in her, and she looked for a son in me, believing, god bless her, that she can fix me.

"You are the closest thing to a son I have left," she kept telling me.

Not mother in law. Just mother. She insisted.

"I wasn't born as Scully," she told me: "I got married into this family just like you did. We have a lot in common, you and I. Scully people all have a very strong will, they are stubborn and not easy to deal with. But they need us, Fox. And we need them. Don't give up on my daughter, Fox."

"She's with Mark now," I reminded her.

"She's not with Mark," Maggie insisted: "Mark is just her friend, as well as yours. He's an honorable man, who'd never betray your trust."

"Trust?" I laughed, even though nothing was funny: "Trust no one!"

"Do you trust me Fox?" she asked a trick question. There was no right answer to that, if there was answer at all.

"Do you, Fox?"

"Trust me Fox."

"Fox?"

"Let me help you, Fox."

Fox. Fox, Fox, Fox, Fox…

"Fox!"

"Samantha!"

"Fox?"

"No!"

"Fox? It's me, Maggie."

"I'm afraid, daddy, I'm afraid!"

"Molly!"

"Fox?"

"Fox!"

"She's gone, Fox."

"Let me help you, Fox."

Anything. Anything you want. Just stop calling me Fox!

"Fox!"

"Samantha!"

"Fox?"

"Make it stop, Mrs. Scully! Please make it stop!"

"Will you talk to her, Fox?"

"I love you Fox."

"Scully!"

"Mulder!"

"Don't leave me!"

"Come with me!"

"Let me help you, Fox."

"Help me… Mom."

I couldn't separate reality from nightmares anymore. Mrs. Scully was my only anchor, the only thing keeping me from completely losing my mind. I ate what she cooked out of politeness, showered out of consideration, talked to Jenny out of appreciation…

Jenny was Melissa's friend from school, a trained therapist who Mrs. Scully brought to my place first thing after deciding that she can handle driving again. I wasn't happy to meet her, but I tried to be polite. I hoped she would turn out to be a good enough therapist to realize immediately that I'm a lost cause so I wouldn't have to see her again. No such luck, of course.

First time she came, Jenny talked about her family: her brother, sister and nephews and how she wanted a family of her own, but couldn't find the right man. She asked me if I knew Melissa and we talked about her for a while. Jenny was friendly and non-threatening so I relaxed with her. The session was boring, but she didn't make me talk about myself and for that I was grateful.

Mrs. Scully was waiting for us in the kitchen, talking to Mark. I was surprised to see him. When did he come in here? How come I didn't hear him? It probably had something to do with my brain refusing to register door bells and ringing phones, I realized, for the first time worried about my hearing.

"Mark, would you mind giving Jenny a ride home?" Mrs. Scully asked: "She's in a rush and I need a little more rest before driving again."

"Sure," Mark agreed: "I was just leaving anyway."

"But you only got here," I noticed.

"I came to check on you," Mark said: "I see that you are in good hands, so I can leave in peace. I'll come back soon, buddy, just hang on."

"Are you sure you don't mind?" Jenny sounded a bit uncomfortable: "I can call a cab if you'd like to stay longer."

"This place is too remote for cabs," Mark smiled: "Besides, I'll enjoy the company."

Before I had time to blink, they were gone.

I turned to Mrs. Scully and she smiled at me.

"You don't feel well?" I asked, worried.

"I feel great, Fox," her smile widened.

"But…" I was confused: "Why can't you drive?"

"Oh, son, don't tell me you didn't notice how those two looked at each other! I'm perfectly capable of driving, but they needed a little push."

"I don't understand… He's with Scully, he wouldn't cheat on her."

"Dana is your wife, not his! Whatever she felt for him is long gone. Don't torture yourself Fox, your jealousy is misplaced."

"You don't understand…"

"I do. You and Dana belong together, a blind man could see that! Before I'm gone I want to do what I can to help you both realize it. I want to do a little something for Mark as well. He's done so much for all of us."

"Before you're gone?" my brain got stuck on that part.

"Don't worry," she smiled, but there was some sadness in her eyes: "It won't happen for a while. I still have a lot to do around here."

Her words didn't convince me, but they moved something in me. My mind suddenly cleared up a bit, reducing the fog of fear that was my constant companion. My wife and son may have been far away and didn't need me anymore, but the woman in front of me was lonely and old. I had a brief vision of her lying on her death bed and holding my hand, surrounded by all kind of hospital monitors. Maybe she wasn't trying to help solely me. Maybe she needed a son as much as I needed a mother.

Next time the phone rang, I heard it.

Next time after that, I answered it.

Next time Jenny came I talked about myself.

Next time Mark came I let him walk me around the house.

Next time they came together I congratulated them.

One of the next times Maggie came she took me to the cemetery. And I was ready.

Funny, isn't it? A man who used to run and chase aliens for the better part of his life was now barely able to leave his house in order to visit his daughter's grave on the date of her death.

A man who was never meant to have a daughter…

A man who was never meant to have a son…

"Grandma! Dad!" I heard behind me.

"Hello Ahab," Maggie greeted him. She's the only one allowed to call him Ahab. The only one allowed to call me Fox. A true matriarch of the family.

"William," I smiled, running my hand through his hair. He's growing so fast.

"Are you cured, dad?" he was observing me carefully.

"I… um, am not completely comfortable being outside," I admitted: "But I'm working on it, son."

"But you are well enough to finally move in with mom, right?" he tried to gain control over my thoughts, apparently.

"Um… See… It's complicated."

"It's not complicated!" he got angry: "Only you are complicated! You both are! I'm sick of it! I'm so sick of both of you!"

"William," I pleaded: "We'll figure out something. Give us time."

"What time? You've been doing shit like this my whole life! Some of my friends' parents are together, some are divorced. But my parents… You are neither of that! You can't live with each other, but you can't live without each other either! I don't understand that shit! What the fuck is wrong with you two?"

"Ahab!" Maggie scolded him.

"Sorry, grandma," he lowered his eyes and his voice, transforming in an instant from a furious teenager into adorable child. But when he raised his head again and looked me in the eyes, the rage was still there.

"If you are done here," he said, politely but coldly: "I'd like to be alone with Molly."

"Of course, darling," Maggie agreed: "Tell your mom to call me, ok?"

"Why don't you tell her yourself? She's in the car, right over there."

Maggie and I turned around in unison, coming face to face with Scully and Skinner, staring at us from the safe distance of his car.

Skinner! Maggie was right! Scully wasn't seeing Mark, but Skinner! I couldn't decide which was worse.

They were holding hands. Hands! My wife and my friend. How could they do this to me, on this day of all days?

"Let's go say hello," Maggie nudged me.

"No!" I refused: "Take me home."

"Fox…"

"I can't. Please take me home!"

"Are you ok, Fox? Your hands are shaking…"

"Please…"

The world was too big again, too vast and endlessly dangerous. I needed the safety of my house and my mom to scare away the monsters and aliens. Only when we got into the car I felt relatively safe again. I reminded myself that I'm a middle aged man, not a helpless little boy. That there are no monsters and aliens. Okay, there are, but I'm capable of killing any of them. I've done it before.

I needed my mother in la… just mother to hold me. But she had to drive.

I needed to talk to Jenny, but she was with Mark.

I needed my wife, but she… Skinner…

No! I can't think about that! It's not real, it's not happening! She is still my wife. She is still only mine. I can touch her and taste her and smell her hair… Her hair has the most reassuring smell in the whole world. Countless times I held her in my arms, sad, broken or happy, my nose buried in her hair, its smell proving me she's real, she's alive, I got to her in time… My Scully… The strongest, gentlest woman there is. My salvation, my light in the darkness.

I would give the world for just one night of bad sex with her. Yes, I miss those times when we couldn't make it work more than those when it went smoothly. It's easy to enjoy great sex, when it's pleasurable you delight in it no matter who you are copulating with. But I can't imagine savoring bad sex with anybody but her. With anybody else, it would be awkward and humiliating, but with her it ends up with laughs and jokes, bringing us all the more closer to each other. I know that she never fakes it, because, well, she doesn't.

"Mulder, that hurts!" I can still hear her.

"Scully, are you trying to kill me?!" I can hear myself.

"Whoa, what the hell was THAT?!"

"I can't find it…"

"Well, it's not anywhere near THERE!"

"Shit! What now?"

"After all those tapes…"

"They weren't mine!"

"…you still don't know what to do?"

"Just tell me!"

"Can't! I'm Catholic!"

"Oh my god!"

"Please, try not to get HIS attention!"

"Are you even close, Scully?"

"I was closer before we started this!"

"All right, I'm out!"

"What? You weren't even IN!"

"I can't when you do THAT!"

"And what am I supposed to do?!"

"Anything BUT that!"

"Or THAT!"

"SCULLY! Please stop!"

"Mulder?"

"Yeah?"

"Remind me to buy milk."

"What the…"

"Milk, Mulder, MILK!"

"How can you think about MILK while…"

"Please don't say it!"

"Fuck!"

"You wish!"

"You aren't even trying."

"I am! I still haven't cut off any of your… body parts, have I?"

"Gee, thanks!"

"Let's just go to sleep, Mulder. I have to get up early."

"Yeah. Good idea."

"You don't mind?"

"No, not at all."

"We'll try again tomorrow."

"Please, Scully, give me more time. I can't go through this every day."

"Don't be such a baby, Mulder."

"Scully? When is your period coming?"

"Shut up, Mulder! You know I'm in menopause."

"I know… But if you weren't, when would it come?"

"Are you serious?"

"Are you mad?"

"Is that what you're trying to accomplish?"

"Make up sex, Scully, it always works. You know you want it!"

"I'm too tired to be mad at you, Mulder."

"You love me when you're mad at me!"

"Mulder…"

"Say it Scully!"

"Mulder!"

"Say it!"

"Fine. I love you. Will you let me sleep now?"

"When, Scully?"

"When what?"

"When do you love me?"

"Always, Mulder."

"That's not fair."

"Mulder, shut up or I swear to god…"

"Shh, Scully, he's still listening!"

"Sleep, Mulder! Some of us have to go to work before sunrise."

"Okay, Doc."

"..."

"Scully?"

"..."

"Hey, Scully!"

"..."

"SCULLY!"

"WHAT?!"

"I love you, too."

"Still not mad at you, Mulder."

"Damn!"

"And it's not about me being mad at you. It's when you are mad at me."

"That turns you on?"

"That makes you good."

"Oh. How?"

"Goodnight, Mulder."

"Goodnight, Scully."

"..."

"Love you anyway…"

"…"

"..."


	66. The boss

When I met Mulder and Scully I was their superior. At first I didn't have much understanding for the work they did, but their passion and integrity quickly dragged me into their complicated little world, a world of lies and conspiracies, a world of friendship and loyalty, a world of courage and stubbornness.

I admired them, but I did so from a safe distance. I was never completely their ally, but rather their spy, their link to the world of law and bureaucracy, a hole in the rules.

I was willing to die for their cause, but I never made it my own. I liked to think that I was more useful to them from inside majority, but the truth is…

That's the thing: I don't know what the truth is.

In the end, they didn't save the world. They didn't even save themselves. How did I end up in the middle of their drama? So many years ago I worked hard to save their jobs and their asses, over and over again, and now I'm trying to save their marriage, which somehow turns out to be even harder. The truth they so fought for is no longer out there, it's in them now, and instead of searching for it they are determined to destroy it.

If their marriage was really dead, if they really wanted a fresh start, I would support them. But that is simply not the case. Neither of them asked for a divorce and neither one of them is moving forward at all. They are still stuck in their pain and engaged in this ridiculous form of self-punishment in which they are refusing to take solace in the only person that can truly help them heal: each other.

And I am left to pick up the pieces, or more precisely to pick up their minor son from police custody.

Oh god, William, what have you done?

I don't even know. I got a call and rushed to my car, thinking only about getting him out as soon as possible.

This is exactly why I never wanted kids.

I'm not surprised, though. William has gained some bad habits lately, like smoking and cursing, and made some questionable new friends. I'm trying not to be too hard on him, but I don't like any of it. It's a miracle something like this didn't happen sooner, actually. It must be hard for such a sensitive boy to be raised by two people who love each other so deeply but have no idea what on earth to do about it.

I've run out of ideas by this point as well. Mulder is still paranoid about leaving his house and Scully won't go anywhere near there. She is still unemployed, but she's looking for a new job. Her drinking seems to be under control, but if she doesn't find some work soon I'm afraid she might go back to it. She's a strong woman, but everybody's strength has limits, and her main coping mechanism, short of the opportunity to indulge in her workaholic tendencies, seems to be alcohol and sex. I haven't seen her in that state often, first time was that Ed Jerse incident, next time her break up with Mark and then Molly's death – that one was really tough. She managed to pull through, but for how long?

At least I get to see her regularly, which is more than I can say for Mulder. For some reason that I don't quite understand, Mulder thinks I'm sleeping with Scully and thus I'm not welcomed in his house anymore. Thank god for Mrs. Scully, she's keeping an eye on him and informing me about his condition. She's the only one he seems to respond to, but I don't know how long that can last either. Mrs. Scully is an old woman and driving to that remote house is already a hard task for her. She may not be able to do it for much longer, and then what?

No, it's no wonder William ended up in jail, but I can't let it be a part of his future. I won't. There's got to be a way out for him.

Finally, I'm in the building, running through corridors and waving my badge. It's time to either call in favors or make debts, but I'm not going to let my godson have a criminal record of any kind.

As it turns out, it's nothing more than drinking and using fake id. At first I'm relieved, but as the paperwork is done and favors called, more and more anger is boiling inside me. He doesn't even seem regretful, giving me that stubborn look he inherited from his father.

"We were just…" he starts but I don't let him finish. I drag him out of there first, ignoring him until we are out in the open and no one is paying attention to us anymore.

"I was celebrating," he tries again.

"Celebrating what?" I ask: "Making fool of yourself? Breaking the law?"

"No. On this day… Molly came to live with us."

"Oh, I'm sure you made your sister very proud today! Do you think she'd like to see you in prison?"

"No! But at least she will never have to see me DIE!" he yells at me and before I can stop him he takes out his cigarettes and lights one.

"William," I start, but suddenly I don't have it in me to fight with him. He called ME to get him out, not his parents, and if I'm the only adult person he still relies on it wouldn't be wise to lose that trust.

"Give me one of those," I sigh, defeated. If you're going down, kid, let me go with you. I'm tired of power games with one Mulder, I don't need to go through all that with another one. Especially when this other one is half Scully.

We smoke in silence, in front of my car.

"So, where do you want me to drop you?" I ask when we are done. He looks at me, confused and a bit hurt. His defiance is gone and I'm left with an innocent kid again, a kid whose eyes are begging me not to leave him.

"I'm sorry," he pleads.

"Do you still want to be an FBI agent?" I ask him, carefully examining his body language and facial expression. He's irritated, angry at his parents, the world, himself. I can't let him be angry at me, or I'll lose him as well.

"Yes," he says seriously: "And I can't do that if I don't stop breaking the law. I know. It won't happen again. I just… I didn't want to be alone today."

"Why aren't you with your parents?" I ask him. I know why, but I can't help asking. I make a mental note to remember the date. Molly's birthday and the day she died we all remember, but this one, it probably belongs only to William.

"They…" he doesn't know what to say: "You know how they are…"

"I know," I nod: "But you are your own man now. You can't use them as an excuse for your bad choices."

"Why not?" he is angry again: "They can break our family, act like assholes and get all crazy, but I can't even have one drink?"

"Don't play a victim William," I warn him: "This was more than just one drink and you know it."

"But my parents…"

"Do you seriously want to end up like them?"

"No, but…"

"Then stop acting like them!"

"Is this it, then? Is this how it's going to end with them?"

"No. Not if I can do anything about it."

"And what can you do?"

"Maybe there is something," I smile, an idea suddenly popping into my head.

"What?" he sounds irritated, not willing to allow himself to feel any hope, not after everything he's been through. But something tells me this is going to work, something tells me there is hope after all and my smile widens.

"I can give them back what brought them together in the first place," I tell him, already determined to do exactly that, no matter what it takes. There are people who won't like it, but I've dealt with them before and my career is not exactly in a place high enough for a fall to hurt it. I'll get back on my feet, I always do. That obnoxious guy, Tad O'Malley, might be of some use after all. I can get him what he's been asking for and save my friends in the process, maybe even the world itself.

"What?" William is still clueless, and more than a little impatient. I smile again and plant my hand on his shoulder, firmly, like a boss that I once was and am planning to be again. To hell with being friends with his parents! That didn't do us much good. It's time to be their superior again.

"I'm reopening the X files."

The End

(But stay tuned for Epilogue. I'm going to let William tell you what happened next. Thank you for sharing this journey with me and special thanks to those of you who wrote reviews. I learned something from them and hopefully improved my writing. I tried, at least ;) )


	67. Epilogue

Author's note:

Do you ever wonder how a story came to be? I'll tell you about this one. If you are not interested in that just skip this note.

This story started as a side project while I was writing another one. It was a dark one and in it the reason Scully left Mulder was because she realized she never was truly in love with him (which, in my opinion, is a valid reason for ending a relationship, unlike leaving a man you love because he got sick). She was held a prisoner and had lots of time to contemplate her life Mulder. She felt guilty for not being able to love him the same way he loved her and I thought that she could remember his sperm donation and wonder if the situation was reversed would she do the same for him? I was so intrigued by that idea that I wanted to explore it further.

I never thought it would grow into a novel! I never thought I'm capable of writing a novel! But here it is, six months later. I enjoyed writing in the beginning because it was much lighter than my previous story, but I guess I'm like Mulder, I can't stay away from darkness for long. I wanted a parallel with original story, but with Mulder being a single father this time. That's why I created that huge rift between him and Scully, caused by him coming back from the dead not quite himself.

The story was supposed to end with Chapter 24, I was only going to write Epilogue after that, but I was so into the story that I couldn't bear to finish it. Lots of things were supposed to happen in that Epilogue, so I decide to keep writing and arrive to them slowly instead. Still, Mark wasn't supposed to happen. Or Molly. I thought hard about allowing them, but once I did I couldn't imagine my story without them.

Killing Molly killed me, but what else could have broken the family? And if I didn't break them, then there would be no way to make the parallel to revival. I hated the revival, but still wanted to stay true to the show. That's why I did what I did, and I know some people hated it, but it all had a purpose.

Oh, and if you wonder about so many references to bad sex, that was my little rebellion against majority of stories that turn Mulder and Scully into absolutely perfect lovers who have the best sex of their lives with each other from the very first time and become obsessed with that activity. There are some great stories ruined by turning them into, I don't know, porn stars? Their relationship was never about lust, so I find all that completely out of character.

Okay, I think I told you all I wanted to… Sorry about long note, I'm just having trouble saying goodbye to this story. I'll let William speak now. I hope you'll like the epilogue, and I'd love to hear what you think!

Epilogue

Molly!

Sorry I didn't talk to you for a while, I was sad and there were bad things happening I didn't want you to know about. Maybe you already know, I don't know. I don't know if you can hear me but I need to believe that you can.

It's weird, Molly. You died when you were eight, but if there is life after death do you continue to age there or do you stay the same as when you died? If I live to be eighty and die as an old man, but you stay a child and we meet… Wouldn't it be strange? What would we talk about? But if you age as well, how will we ever recognize each other? What happens after you die, Molly? I wish you could talk to me and tell me all about it. Maybe you do, but I can't hear you? It's all so confusing.

Lots of things happened after you died, Molly. Mom and I moved out because the house reminded her of you and it was too painful for her to stay. Funny, but dad didn't want to leave the house for the same reason! It's interesting how the same feelings make different people do completely opposite things. Dad had agoraphobia, can you believe it? He couldn't leave the house for months, but he's better now. He has a therapist who helped him, Jenny, and she dated Mark for a while, but they are not together anymore.

And mom… I don't want to talk about that, but she's also much better.

Grandma died, Molly. You probably already know that. I hope that you are together now. I miss you both so much, but I am not sad anymore. I found some books when we were cleaning grandma's house after her funeral, mom says they belonged to our aunt Melissa. They are strange but very interesting, and one of them talks about what happens after you die. It's not the same they say in church, so I don't know if it's true, but it's interesting and it helped me a lot. I learned that when you are sad after someone passes, their soul can feel it and it hurts them, so I decided that I don't want to be sad anymore. I don't want to hurt you, or grandma. Some of my friends think that mom and dad were selfish to adopt you because they knew you were probably going to die and they shouldn't have exposed me to that experience. I thought about that, but I don't agree with them. I can't imagine not having you for a sister, no matter how much it lasted and how it ended. Maybe I wouldn't be so sad if I never knew you, but I would also never be as happy as I was when you were with us. I wouldn't change my time with you for anything, Molly! You have to believe me! Every day I wish you were still alive, but if you had to die, I'm glad it happened with us, I'm glad you had a family instead of dying alone in some stupid hospital.

You gave me a family, as well. Our parents would never have married if it wasn't for you. You know how they are! They almost didn't even have a wedding! What a stupid idea to just sign the papers and not invite anybody! It makes me angry just thinking about it. And now they don't even live together anymore. I lived with mom for a while, but now I live with Skinner. Mom and dad travel a lot so they are not much around anyway, but when they are at home I sometimes stay with one of them. It's like I have three homes now! But I keep your fish at Skinner's, so I consider that to be my main home. Mitch is there also, so I have a cat too! I was afraid that he would scare the fish or try to eat them (you know how Lily always stared at them and walked around aquarium), but he doesn't care about them at all. I guess he's too old for that.

All your fish are happy and healthy, I take a good care of them. You even have a new fish, Molly! Skinner and I bought her for your birthday, "for our Molly Mully," Skinner said. That's how he likes to call you now, Mully being the short for Mulder Scully. It's funny, how did I never think of it? I would have teased you forever with that! Skinner is so funny, but I don't understand how mom and dad can't see it! I guess he's not funny when he's with them. Anyway, we decided to buy a new fish for your every birthday, so you will always have lots of fish! And before I die I will tell my children and grandchildren to keep buying them! But I will never be obsessed with you, like dad is obsessed with Samantha, I promise! I will remember you in a good way. Skinner and I talk about you a lot and it's great because he doesn't get sad when you are mentioned, like mom and dad do. My friends also don't like to talk about you, it makes them uncomfortable, so I'm really glad to have Skinner. I love living with him, though I still hope mom and dad will get their shit together and move back with each other. I will probably be in college by that time and live on my own, but it would still be nice.

Talking about Skinner, you would never guess, but he's MARRIED! For real! Well, maybe not for real because he hasn't seen his wife since long before I was born, but he never divorced her. He showed me her picture and even told me a few stories about her. Crazy, right?

Speaking of crazy, I forgot to tell you, mom and dad work for the FBI again! That's why they travel a lot, for their cases. Skinner is their boss, haha! He reopened the X files just for them. At first they weren't interested but Skinner found some guy from youtube to convince them to take the jobs. They weren't fit for a field duty in the beginning so they had to be in the office all the time and work on paperwork. Skinner thought it was good because they were forced to start talking to each other, but they didn't really talk much. I was allowed to visit them sometimes and they were just doing their own thing, mostly ignoring each other. One day I walked in while they were arguing, but they stopped as soon as they heard me and I didn't catch what their argument was about. I don't know what was worse, them fighting or not talking. I sat there and pretended to use my phone, but I was angry and thinking about what to tell them. Then mom gave me a folded piece of paper and nodded towards dad, motioning me to give it to him. That made me angrier. Why couldn't she just tell him instead of writing the note? And why did she put me in between? But I didn't say anything, their silence was so contagious, besides, talking to them rarely does any good anyway. I handed the paper to dad, he read it, then he stared at mom and she stared back at him! Insane! They often just stare at each other like that, like complete idiots! Suddenly, dad smiled and mom smiled back. They didn't say anything, but they were much nicer to each other afterwards. I didn't ask what the note said because they wouldn't tell me, but dad left it on his desk and I came back to the office when they were not around to read it. It's wrong, I know, but what else can I do when they never tell me anything?

Guess what the note said, Molly! "You're still my last." Just that! What was so private about that? Why did it make dad so happy? I have no idea. I don't even know what it means! Last what? Partner? Husband? Or… Oh… Never mind. I don't want to think about that. I don't want to think about mom and dad having sex. Mom told me stories about it, but she was very drunk, so maybe she just made them up. Maybe they never had sex. I mean, they didn't get me or you with sex like other people do, so it's possible, though unlikely, that they never did it. What do you think, Molly?

No, I shouldn't talk to you about that! Sorry! And mom was drinking a lot, but not anymore, don't worry! They wouldn't let her have the gun otherwise. Even dad got it. I know it's a dangerous job, but mom and dad can take care of themselves. I'm glad they are working again, even dad! I don't care about their monsters and aliens, I want to be a real Agent, not like them! Skinner showed me his office and other offices and it's much nicer then the basement where they keep the X files. I learned a lot about the job and I met lots of Agents! Skinner introduces me as Agent Sculder! Haha! It's, like, the opposite of Mully! He gets all business and serious before saying things like: "Meet my heir, soon to be Agent Sculder," or "Here's my new partner, future Agent Sculder."

"It's Scully, actually," I correct him, but nobody calls me neither Scully nor Sculder. They call me Mulder's baby! It's humiliating, but they just love to call me that! Some of them remember me from that time when dad carried me to work with him while I was a baby, others, who came later, know me from stories. They say I'm a legend and I should be proud because everybody knows about and wants to meet Mulder's baby! That's cool, but I hope by the time I become their colleague they will learn to call me Agent Scully! Or William, if we become friends. But not Ahab! They are nice people and I can't wait to work with them! Maybe, if I work hard enough, I'll get to be Assistant Director, like Skinner, and then I can be boss to mom and dad! Imagine that! Haha!

I started to smoke. I know it's bad, but it helps me relax and have something to do when I'm bored or upset. It's not a secret, and mom and Skinner are always trying to talk me into quitting. I don't know how dad feels about it, though. He only once saw me smoking and he looked terrified, like he saw a ghost or something!

"You look like him," he said in a tone of voice that scared the shit out of me. I immediately threw out the cigarette and never smoked in front of him again. I don't know what scared him so much and who I reminded him of. He never mentioned it again and I'm afraid to ask.

Skinner doesn't allow me to smoke in his apartment, but mom doesn't mind. At least she never said anything, so I assume it's ok to do it in her place. But I don't like to go there because she has a dog now. His name is Daggoo and he always bites me. I hate him!

I don't know if mom and dad are together now or not. They refuse to talk about it, but they seem to spend an awful lot of time together, and not just at work. Whenever I call one of them they seem to be with the other. They say they work on the cases together, but no one can work all night, right? I don't know, but they seem happy to me, Molly. Life is not perfect, but I'm happy as well. So don't worry about us. I promise to talk to you more often, but even when I don't talk to you I think about you all the time. I hope you know it.

We all love you and miss you, Molly, but I love you the most! And I always will!


End file.
